r^m 


I     u 


Ten  Months  a  Captive 
Among  Filipinos 


\M^i-^M    ^(>^vyAA2eJLiJM:^ 


Ten  Months  a  Captive 
Among  Filipinos 

Being    A    NARRATIVE     Of 

Adventure  and  Observation 

During    Imprisonment    on    the 
Island    of    LUZON,    P.    I. 

By 

ALBERT  SONNICHSEN 


l^eto  iorft 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1901 


Copyright,  1901,  bv 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRCCTOIiy 

raiNTINO  AND  BOOKBINDINa  COMPANV 

NEW  YORK 


8ANTA  BAffBAHA 


To 
GABINO   CASTRO 

VIGAN,  P.  I. 


CONTENTS 


VAGE 

INTRODUCTION, .        .      i 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  TRIP  TO  MALOLOS 

As  British  civilians — A  curious  fellow-traveller — Arrested  at  Mey- 
cauayan — Reception  by  military  authorities — A  rabid  Filipino — 
Photographing  the  comandante  —  The  three  Englishmen  — 
March  to  Malolos — The  Gobierno  Militar,      ....       8 

CHAPTER  II 

FIRST  DAYS  OF  CAPTIVITY 

Interior  of  Malolos  prison  —  The  Macabebe  officer  —  Arrival  of 
David  Arnold — The  live  engineers — George  Peters — The  en- 
gineers and  Peters  are  released  —  Interviewed  by  Baldomero 
Aguinaldo,  Secretary  of  War — Bruce  and  Honeyman  arrive — 
The  night  of  February  4,  1899, 21 

CHAPTER   III 

CLOSE  CONFINEMENT 

Departure  of  Mariano — The  wounded  arrive — Threatened  by  a 
mob— -New  companions — The  first  "secreto" — The  story  of 
* '  Betel-Nuts  "—Visitors— ' '  Squint-Eye  "  —  Story  of  « •  Cigar- 
ettes " — The  child  prisoner  in  the  stocks — The  woman  prisoner,     31 

CHAPTER   IV 

DESPERATE   CHANCES 

Prison  filth — Plans  of  escape — The  suggestion  from  the  broken 
bar — A  glimpse  of  liberty — Plans  that  proved  futile — Febru- 
ary 13th — Curious  behavior  of  Arnold — A  visit  from  Donato 
— Betrayed — A  new  sentinel,  .......     47 

vii 


Contents 

CHAPTER  V 

TAIL  LIFE 

■'  rAGE 

Arnold's  cowardice — The  new  Governor — The  prison  bill  of  fare 
— Native  custom  of  eating — The  gymnasium — Antonio  Luna 
— Capitan  Emilio — Capture  of  Manila! — Extra! — Phantom 
prisoners — O'Brien's  arrival, 54 

CHAPTER  VI 

RELAXATION 

O'Brien's  narrative — Captain  Scott — Baldomero  Aguinaldo's  dou- 
ble-dealing—  Twenty-seven  days  in  Santa  Isabela — Captain 
Espina — The  names  on  the  wall — The  iron  mask — Athletics 
in  the  yard — Moro-moro — The  visit  to  the  market — Aguinal- 
do's body-guard — Maguey  cloth — "Los  Chinos" — Monetary 
system — The  sefioritas  and  our  bath, 71 

CHAPTER  VII 

MISFORTUNES  OF  O'BRIEN 

Za  Independencia,  Aguinaldo's  official  organ — Filipino  eloquence 
— The  railroad  officials — O'Brien's  visits  to  Calumpit — Ar- 
nold's confession  —  The  citizen  of  the  world  departs  for  the 
front — His  return — His  story — "Vamos!"  again,  ,         .     96 

CHAPTER    VIII 

SANTA   ISABELA 

The  convent — Unaccustomed  luxury — Faded  grandeur — The  mas- 
sacre of  the  friars — The  native  militia — A  glimpse  at  the  In- 
surgent Civil  Government — The  13th  again — Escape  of  Bruce, 
Honeyman,  and  O'Brien,         .......  107 

CHAPTER   IX 

SOUNDS    OF   WAR 

The  alarm  raised — A  lady's  joke — Captain  Espina  intercedes  for  us 
— Pounding  rice — Antonio  de  la  Pena — The  ancient  mariner — 
The  young  lieutenant  and  the  Springfield  rifle — Insurgent  offi- 
cers and  their  salaries — Espina's  story — Rumors  of  an  advance 
— Cannonading — The  fleeing  population — The  mob — A  friend 
in  need — On  to  Malolos  and  a  reunion,  .         .         .         .116 

viii 


Contents 

CHAPTER  X 

WITH  THE  RETREAT 

PAGE 

Narrative  of  the  recaptured  trio — An  American  searchlight — ^The 
dead  march — Return  to  Malolos — We  join  the  retreat — The 
firing  line  in  view — Quingua  —  Baliuag — Sigue !  sigue  !  San 
Rafael — A  Spanish  woman — San  Ildefonso^Overloading  our 
stomachs — San  Miguel  de  Mayumo — Ramon  Rey — Our  arrival 
at  San  Isidro,  and  our  reception,    ......   140 


CHAPTER  XI 

SAN  ISIDRO 

The  phantom  army  at  Dagupan — The  Macabebes,  and  their  hatred 
of  the  Tagalogs — Singing  for  alms — "John  Brown's  Body," 
a  hundred  voices  strong  —  David  Arnold,  diplomat  and 
preacher — An  old  shipmate — The  friars — A  new  recruit — News 
from  the  American  lines, 153 


CHAPTER  XII 

NEWS  FROM  OUTSIDE 

A  new  prisoner — The  names  on  the  wall — Albert  Bishop  tells  his 
story — The  wrong  side  of  the  firing  line — His  interview  with 
Aguinaldo —  Rumors  of  more  prisoners — Lieutenant  Gillmore's 
party  arrives, 169 


CHAPTER  XIII 

OFF  FOR  THE  NORTH 

Our  new  companions — Increased  ration  allowances — Bebinkas — 
Keeping  a  diary — Retail  cheaper  than  wholesale — A  scrap  of 
paper  under  the  floor — Ramon  Rey  and  the  two  letters — The 
Negritos — "A  treaty  of  Peace" — On  the  march  again,         .  178 

ix 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XIV 

ON  THE   MARCH 

FAGS 

A  night  in  the  jungle — Carabao — San  Quintin — The  Spanish  rebel, 
but  are  subdued — A  marriage  ceremony — Native  clergy — We 
retrace  our  steps — Northward  again — Pangasinan — The  Igor- 
rotes — The  first  of  the  Ilocano  provinces — Change  of  dialect 
— Aringay — Don  Juan  Baltazar, i86 

CHAPTER  XV 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  ILOCOS 

Don  Juan  entertains  us — Manufacture  of  indigo— Don  Juan  dis- 
cusses politics — Dr.  Jose  Luna — Our  salaries  increased — The 
sea — San  Fernando  de  Union — Namacpacan  and  Colonel  Santa 
Romana — ^The  colonel's  story — A  friar's  opinion  of  the  Fili- 
pino people — A  letter  of  recommendation — Candon  and  Pedro 
Legaspi — Santa  and  the  Abra  River — Vigan  and  our  journey's 
end, 197 

CHAPTER  XVI 

VIGAN 

The  Vigan  prison — The  alcaide — "  An  Advance  Guard  of  Famine" 
— Senor  Pedro  Rivera — General  Tino's  warning — Incomuni- 
cados — American  Searchlights — Sickness — Colonel  Bias  Villa- 
mor — A  mysterious  reply, 212 

CHAPTER  XVII 

AN  INSURGENT  HOSPITAL 

The  real  horrors  of  war — Capitan  Chrisolojo  and  his  wife — Lieuten- 
ant Abasilla — The  Insurgent  hospital  corps — Arnold's  visit — 
Provisions  for  the  American  prisoners — Fight  between  Tag- 
alogs  and  Ilocanos — Death  of  the  young  cazador — Beri-beri — 
Spanish  fiends, 218 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

LIEUTENANT    CASTRO 

PACK 

Bruce  and  Edwards  arrive — We  make  use  of  the  Navy  Signal  Code 
— Filipino  Ladies'  Red  Cross  Society — Tino's  warning  to  Villa- 
mor — American  vessels  on  the  horizon — Perez  plans  an  escape 
— Lieutenant  Repol,  his  escape,  recapture,  and  punishment — 
General  Tiiio's  victories — His  treatment  of  the  Bishop  of  Vigan 
— Don  Francisco  saluting  the  citizens — Bombardment  of  San 
Fernando — TiiSo  leaves  Vigan,  and  so  do  we,        .        .        .  235 

CHAPTER  XIX 

UP  THE    RIVER  ABRA 

Departure  from  Vigan — The  Insurgent  reveille — Filipinos  as  musi- 
cians— "La  Bocana" — Scenery  in  the  mountains  of  Abra — 
Mountain  cattle  —  Tinguianes  —  Arrival  at  Bangued  — "  Bien, 
bien,  hombre  " — "Dangerous  Character"  of  O'Brien — In  jail 
again, 258 

CHAPTER  XX 

FILIPINO   FRIENDS 

La  infermeria  de  Bangued — Abasilla's  house — The  invisible  police- 
man— Liberty  of  the  town — Villamor  at  home — The  mountain 
spring — The  alcaide  relaxes — Aguinaldo's  telegram — Treatment 
of  the  Yankee  prisoners  —  Domestic  economy  —  Comandante 
PeSa,  the  Filipino  scientist — Refilling  ammunition — The  school 
of  English — Little  Jesus — His  brother  Pepito,        .        .        .  266 

CHAPTER  XXI 

A  WEDDING    IN    BANGUED 

The  Paredes — Marriage  ceremony  and  festivities — A  debate — Don 
Lucas  makes  a  speech — We  all  become  school-masters — Con- 
densed milk — Spaniards  receive  money  from  their  Government 
— O'Brien  comes  down  from  Dolores — Swimming  the  rapids 
of  the  Abra — Abasilla's  discourse  on  responsibilities,     .         .  286 

xi 


Contents 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  MEETINGS  IN  THE  HOSPITAL 

FAGS 

Cock-fighting  prohibited  by  Aguinaldo — An  American  vessel  fires 
on  Vigan — Concentration  of  Spanish  prisoners — General  Pena, 
the  proud  Castilian — Twenty  men  to  guard  two  thousand — 
Lieutenant  Bustos  speaks  his  mind — Paciencia — A  plan  for  sal- 
vation— A  Spanish  officer's  opinion  of  the  Americans — Guil- 
lermo — Pedro — Gillmore  writes  the  message — Arnold  becomes 
an  American  citizen — Adios  Bangued 295 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

FUGITIVES 

On  the  trail — Swimming  La  Bocana — Arrival  at  Vigan — Sefior  Bal- 
dolomar — Discouraged — "  Entre  los  Peligros  hay  Seguridad" 
— Catalan — ^An  impostor  —  A  night  march — Masingal — The 
boats  on  the  beach — Too  late — In  hiding — The  bark  of  a  dog 
— Pursued  by  bolomen — Back  to  Vigan — Deserted  by  the  Span- 
iards— Meeting  an  old  acquaintance  at  an  awkward  moment — 
The  sugar-planters'  hut — General  Natividad's  retreat — Through 
the  streets  of  Vigan — Swimming  the  river — Meeting  with  Perez 
—"Alto!" 309 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

MARINES   FROM  THE  OREGON 

Colonel  Joaquin  Alejandrino  —  Back  to  the  hospital  —  Captain 
Chrisolojo's  cool  reception — The  same  old  Castro— The  young 
sergeant  at  the  skirmish  of  San  Jacinto — Turned  over  to  the 
Provincial  Governor — A  mysterious  visitor — A  proposition — 
The  drugged  sentry — Don  Mariano  Acosta,  Presidente  Provin- 
cial de  Ilocos  Sur — The  secret  room — In  hiding — Padre  Gali- 
pay — Three  American  war-vessels — The  bombardment  com- 
mences— Don  Mariano  and  his  staff  alarmed — Ignacio  Villamor 
— Down  to  the  beach— The  starry  banner  floats  over  Vigan,     .  338 


Xll 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XXV 

IN   MANILA  AGAIN 

PAGE 

The  Oregon — ^Trip  to  Manila — General  Otis — Admiral  Watson — 
Return  to  Vigan  on  the  Newark — The  attack  on  Vigan — Gen- 
eral Young — Ramon  Rey  turns  up  again — Another  attack — A 
reconnoissance  of  La  Bocana — The  Spaniards  arrive  from  Abra 
— Despatch  from  Colonel  Hare — Arresting  suspects — Antonio 
Singson — The  part  he  took  in  the  night  attack — His  fate — 
Meeting  old  companions — Outrages — Dr.  Chrisolojo's  mother 
— Chrisolojo  and  Castro  return  and  give  themselves  up— Ru- 
mors of  the  rescue, 358 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

CONCLUSION 

Trip  to  Bangued,  and  meeting  with  old  friends — Abasilla  in  hiding 
— A  letter  to  Alejandrino — Revisiting  old  scenes  and  acquaint- 
ances— Malolos  again — The  rescued  prisoners  arrive — Their 
story — Wherein  our  characters  make  their  bow  and  retire — A 
few  words  on  the  present  situation, 377 


Xlll 


INTRODUCTION 

IT  was  as  quartermaster  of  the  Zealandia,  one  of 
the  four  transports  of  the  second  expedition 
from  San  Francisco  to  Manila  in  1898,  that  the 
writer  left  his  native  land  for  the  distant  Philippines, 
unconscious  that  it  was  to  be  his  fate  to  experience 
what  fell  to  the  lot  of  very  few  Americans  during 
the  war. 

We  reached  Manila  Bay  on  July  23d,  finding  that 
the  first  expedition  had  safely  arrived,  but  as  yet  had 
commenced  no  operations  against  the  Spaniards  be- 
sieged in  the  city  by  the  native  Insurgents.  Disem- 
barking, the  troops  we  had  brought  joined  those  of 
the  first  expedition,  and  together  they  formed  an 
army  of  5,000  or  more  men.  Then  they  took  up  their 
position  outside  the  suburbs  of  Manila,  beside  the 
troops  of  Aguinaldo,  who  already  had  thrown  up 
trenches  opposite  to  those  of  the  Spaniards. 

Often  I  was  able  to  visit  the  camp,  or  the  two 
camps,  rather,  for  the  Filipinos  and  Americans  were 
encamped  side  by  side;  over  the  white  tents  of  our 
soldiers  fluttered  the  stars  and  stripes,  over  the  bam- 
boo huts  of  the  Filipinos  the  unpretentious  tricolor 
of  the  new-born  republic.  Then,  for  the  first  time, 
I  saw  those  people,  with  whom  I  was  yet  to  be  so 
closely  associated. 

On  the  night  of  July  31st  our  boys  fought  their 
first  battle  together  with  their  brown  allies— together, 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

for  the  first  and  last  time.  The  Spaniards  made  a 
fierce  attack,  and  side  by  side  American  and  Filipino 
repelled  them,  seventeen  of  the  former  and  twenty- 
five  of  the  latter  falling  before  the  storm  of  Mauser 
bullets. 

On  August  13th  Manila  capitulated,  and,  attach- 
ing himself  to  the  Utah  Battery,  with  various  mem- 
bers of  which  he  had  made  friends  on  the  voyage, 
the  writer  entered  within  the  walls  of  the  fallen  city; 
but  forbidden  to  do  likewise,  the  Filipinos  remained 
outside. 

Meanwhile,  Aguinaldo  had  conquered  all  the  terri- 
tory outside  of  Manila  and  Cavite,  taking  some  6,000 
Spaniards  prisoners.  About  this  time  the  American 
commander-in-chief,  General  Merritt,  was  relieved  by 
Major-General  Elwell  S.  Otis. 

At  first  the  former  allies  remained  on  friendly  terms, 
but  as  the  Filipino  lines  were  almost  daily  forced  far- 
ther back  from  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  the  Insurgent 
leaders  became,  at  each  backward  step,  more  sullen, 
more  suspicious,  and  less  friendly. 

Such  was  the  situation  in  January.  A  letter  which 
I  wrote  at  this  time  to  a  friend  may  further  enlighten 
the  reader: 

Manila,  January  18,  1899. 
Mr.  Paul  Owens, 

Editor  of  Weekly  Calif ornian. 
My  Dear  Paul:  In  accordance  with  your  request, 
made  on  my  leaving  for  the  Philippines,  to  supply 
you  with  any  interesting  information  that  might  come 
within  the  range  of  my  observations,  and  thus  act 
as  your  unofficial  correspondent,  so  to  say,  I  now 
take  the  first  opportunity  since  the  New  Year  to  send 

2 


Introduction 

you  something  that  seems  worthy  of  your  or  my 
time. 

As  I  wrote  you  before,  Americans  are  now  strictly 
forbidden  to  leave  the  limits  of  the  city,  for  any  per- 
son entering  the  Insurgent  lines  in  an  American  uni- 
form is  at  once  swooped  down  upon  by  them  and  held 
as  a  prisoner  until  a  formal  demand  is  made  for  his  re- 
lease by  our  army  officials. 

Aguinaldo  has  now  established  his  headquarters  and 
capital  at  Malolos,  a  small  town  some  twenty  miles  up 
the  Dagupan  Railroad.  An  outbreak  seems  imminent, 
but  still  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  men  as  enlightened 
as  Aguinaldo  and  his  principal  advisers  are  supposed 
to  be  should  dare  to  measure  strength  with  our  forces, 
considering  their  crude  and  poorly  equipped  army. 

However,  I  must  not  forget  to  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  a  visit  I  was  enabled  to  make  into  or  rather 
beyond  the  Filipino  lines.  In  civilian  clothes  I  was 
permitted  to  pass  their  outposts,  one  day  about  a  week 
ago,  as  an  English  newspaper  correspondent,  but  as  I 
only  remained  a  short  time,  my  visit,  on  this  occasion, 
was  an  uneventful  one. 

Day  before  yesterday,  in  company  with  an  old 
school-mate,  Harry  Huber,  whom  I  chanced  to  meet 
some  weeks  ago,  I  passed  the  Filipino  outposts  again 
and  succeeded  in  taking  a  dozen  views  with  a  four  by 
five  film  kodak. 

Early  that  morning  I  called  on  Huber,  who  is  a 
member  of  the  Hospital  Corps,  and,  donning  a  civilian 
suit  each,  we  walked  down  to  the  Escolta,  hired  a  four- 
wheeled  vehicle  resembling  a  carriage,  and  drove  out 
to  Fort  Malate,  a  suburb  to  the  south  of  Manila,  where 
our  last  outposts  are  stationed. 

3 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Our  forces  are  now  holding  the  same  position 
against  the  Insurgents  that  the  Spaniards  held  against 
the  Americans  before  the  fall  of  Manila.  A  small  creek 
running  by  this  blockhouse  forms  the  boundary  to  our 
territory  and  that  of  the  Insurgents.  In  one  place  it 
is  spanned  by  a  small  stone  bridge,  at  one  end  of  which 
an  American  sentry  paces  up  and  down;  at  the  other 
end,  within  speaking  distance,  an  Insurgent  outpost 
sits  on  the  parapet,  a  Remington  riflie  across  his  knees. 
As  I  have  been  frequently  told,  the  two  often  meet 
in  the  middle  of  the  bridge  to  borrow  cigarettes  from 
each  other  and  discuss  politics. 

We  experienced  no  difficulty  in  passing  both  sen- 
tries, assuring  the  questioning  Insurgent  that  we  were 
"  Ingles." 

Several  hundred  yards  beyond  we  came  into  a  small 
village,  where  a  large  number  of  the  little  brown  sol- 
diers seemed  to  be  quartered  in  temporarily  built  bam- 
boo barracks. 

Seeing  no  officer  about  I  descended  from  our  car- 
riage and  persuaded  a  number  of  them,  who  seemed 
just  to  have  come  in  from  the  outposts,  to  pose  be- 
fore my  camera.  Evidently  they  understood  some- 
thing of  the  nature  of  the  operation,  for  they  made 
every  effort  to  appear  to  best  advantage,  throwing 
out  their  chests,  adjusting  their  belts  and  ammunition 
bags,  holding  their  guns  prominently  before  them,  as 
if  that  was  the  most  imposing  feature.  Then  when 
I  snapped  the  shutter  they  crowded  around,  imagining 
the  result  could  immediately  be  seen. 

I  noticed  that  with  few  exceptions  they  were  all 
barefooted.  Their  uniform  is  made  of  thin  cotton 
stuff  thinly  striped  by  white  and  blue.     This  is  also 

4 


Introduction 

the  uniform  of  the  Spanish  Colonial  army,  and  un-\ 
doubtedly  much  of  it  is  captured  material,  although  \ 
some  is  woven  in  the  country.    Their  broad-brimmed  \ 
straw  hats,   native  made,   with   the  insignia  of   the   \ 
wearer's  battalion  and  company  on  the  black  band    i 
in  yellow  letters,  are  also  a  feature  of  the  Spanish  uni- 
form.    All  those  we  saw  here  were  armed  with  old-    ^ 
fashioned  Remingtons. 

We  took  three  views  about  the  barracks  and  then 
drove  farther  up  the  road  toward  the  interior,  passing  | 
through  thick  bamboo  jungles  and  taking  snap  shots  1 
at  anything  interesting.  J 

At  length,  after  a  long  drive,  we  returned  to  the 
village  from  where  we  had  started,  preparatory  to 
crossing  over  into  our  lines  again.  I  had  just  one 
film  left  on  the  roll,  so  looked  about  for  something 
to  complete  my  dozen  views.  Then  a  most  dazzling 
sight  met  our  eyes. 

In  front  of  the  barracks  stood  an  officer  attired  in  a 
white  cap,  blue  coat,  crimson  trousers  with  four-inch- 
wide  black  stripes  down  the  sides,  shining  black  riding- 
boots,  and  an  unlimited  quantity  of  gold  and  silver 
braid  and  tinsel  about  his  person.  At  one  side  hung 
a  handsome,  polished  leather  revolver  holster;  from 
the  other  hip  dangled  a  long  sword.  Truly,  neither 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory  nor  the  lilies  of  the  field  were 
arrayed  like  this  brown  little  gentleman.  He  was  1 
simply  gorgeous.  ^ 

Forgetting  for  the  moment  that  these  dazzling  hues 
would  be  lost  on  the  film,  I  lifted  up  the  camera  from 
under  the  seat  and  snapped  the  shutter  at  this  mass 
of  concentrated  splendor.  The  result  was  surpris- 
ing. 

5 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

With  a  yell  he  drew  his  sword  and  rushed  wildly 
down  upon  us.  At  first  I  thought  he  meant  to  do  us 
bodily  injury — he  did  not,  though.  But  the  way  he 
whipped  that  sword  about  in  the  air  was  appalling. 
Probably  he  did  this  to  give  force  to  the  torrent  of 
words  that  fell  from  his  mouth,  but,  beyond  the  fact 
that  we  did  not  mistake  them  for  compliments,  they 
failed  entirely  to  enlighten  us  on  the  cause  of  all  this 
trouble.  Our  driver  tried  some  sort  of  an  explanation 
in  our  defence,  I  believe,  but  was  slapped  across  the 
face  before  he  could  finish.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances I  should  have  resented  this,  but  the  presence 
of  a  number  of  soldiers  with  disagreeable  looking  bolos 
and  Remingtons  in  their  hands,  restrained  me  from 
making  an  exhibition  of  ill-temper.  The  chances  are 
they  might  have  followed  a  bad  example  and  done 
likewise. 

Eventually  we  were  allowed  to  proceed  on  our  way 
across  the  bridge,  and,  had  that  little  peacock  oflficer 
followed  us  with  his  person  as  he  did  with  his  voice, 
we  should  probably  have  sent  for  an  interpreter  just 
to  tell  him  how  indignant  we  were;  but  he  remained 
on  his  own  side  of  the  bridge,  twirling  that  sword 
about,  while  the  American  sentinel  on  our  side  stood 
convulsed  with  laughter. 

You  have  now  received  more  than  I  thought  to 
be  able  to  give  you,  so  allow  me  to  come  to  a  con- 
clusion before  you  are  entirely  exhausted.  If  the  Zea- 
landia  should  remain  here  much  longer,  I  might  be 
enabled  to  give  you  some  information  concerning  the 
habits  and  customs  of  these  people,  but  just  now  I 
consider  them  most  interesting  at  a  distance.  Should 
I,  however,  at  some  future  date,  allow  my  curiosity 

6 


Introduction 

to  lead  me  once  more  into  their  lines,  you  shall  cer- 
tainly know  the  result,  although  I  can  assure  you  that 
my  gilded  little  acquaintance  out  in  Malate  will  re- 
ceive a  wide  berth  from  my  side.  At  a  second  meet- 
ing he  might  insist  upon  my  remaining  his  guest  until 
I  could  prove  my  identity,  and  that  might  be  some- 
what awkward  for 

Your  sincere  friend, 

A.  S. 

I  had  promised  in  the  foregoing  letter  to  give  my 
friend,  the  editor,  an  account  of  a  second  visit  into 
the  Insurgent  lines,  should  I  make  one.  A  second 
visit  was  made,  but  for  reasons  entirely  beyond  my 
control  my  friend  has  been  obliged  to  wait  until  now, 
almost  two  years  later,  for  the  promised  report.  These 
reasons  it  is  my  object  now  to  explain,  and  not  only 
Mr.  Owens,  but  whoever  chooses  to  peruse  these 
lines,  will  see  how  entirely  excusable  is  my  delay. 


CHAPTER   I 
THE   TRIP   TO    MALOLOS 

As  British  civilians — A  curious  fellow-traveller — Arrested  at 
Meycauayan — Reception  by  military  authorities — A  rabid 
Filipino — Photographing  the  comandante — The  three  Eng- 
lishmen— March  to  Malolos — The  Gobierno  Militar. 

WE  set  out  on  our  excursion  on  a  Friday, 
which,  according  to  an  old  superstition, 
was  a  direct  invitation  for  a  disastrous  re- 
sult. At  all  events  it  proved  true  on  this  occasion,  and 
I  still  believe  that  our  misfortunes  were  the  result  of 
choosing  a  wrong  day. 

Early  on  Friday  morning,  January  27,  1899,  Harry 
Huber,  of  the  Hospital  Corps,  and  the  writer  drove 
down  to  the  station  of  the  Dagupan  Railroad  in  a 
quiles*  both  of  us  apparently  civilians,  each  being 
attired  in  a  serge  suit  of  unmistakably  English  cut. 
With  us  we  carried  the  same  four  by  five  roll-film  cam- 
era which  we  had  taken  with  us  ten  days  previous  on 
the  trip  out  beyond  Malate  toward  Paranaque.  Ar- 
riving at  the  station  we  bought  two  return  tickets  to 
Malolos,  it  being  our  intention  to  visit  the  Insurgent 
capital  as  representatives  of  the  British  press.  The 
train  was  scheduled  to  leave  at  9  a.m.,  but  as  we  had 
arrived  half  an  hour  early  we  entered  a  coach  and  sat 
down  to  wait.    The  cars  on  this  railroad  are  built  on 

*  A  two-wheeled  vehicle  resembling  a  cab,  entered  from  the  rear  and 
carrying  four  persons. 

8 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

the  European  plan,  in  compartments,  each  being  large 
enough  to  hold  about  a  dozen  passengers.  At  first 
we  found  ourselves  alone,  but  shortly  before  nine 
o'clock  another  passenger  entered  and  seated  himself 
opposite.  He  was  an  elderly,  well-dressed  native,  a 
well-to-do  merchant,  apparently.  By  the  general  ex- 
pression of  his  wrinkled  countenance,  this  world  had 
not  been  made  entirely  to  his  satisfaction.  Our  pres- 
ence especially  seemed  to  give  him  great  displeasure, 
but  this  was  mutual. 

At  precisely  nine  o'clock  the  bell  rang,  a  whistle 
blew,  doors  banged,  and  we  found  ourselves  gliding 
out  of  Manila  at  a  rapidly  increasing  speed,  until  we 
were  flying  at  a  tremendous  rate  over  marshes  and 
rice-fields  and  through  thick,  picturesque  jungles. 
On  we  sped,  so  deeply  interested  in  the  surrounding 
scenery  that  we  entirely  forgot  the  dark  presentiments 
which  the  arrival  of  our  sour-visaged  fellow-passenger 
had  aroused. 

At  length  the  train  slackened  up  and  we  drew  into 
Caloocan,  the  first  station.  We  were  now  some  dis- 
tance inside  the  Insurgent  territory.  It  was  in  this 
place  that  we  expected  to  meet  some  trouble,  as  all 
strangers  were  here  questioned,  and  detained  if 
thought  suspicious. 

Our  explanations  seemed  satisfactory — we  were  not 
molested,  and  when  the  train  once  more  pulled  out,  I 
thought  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  all  danger  was 
passed. 

At  Polo,  the  second  station,  we  were  not  even  ques- 
tioned; there  now  remained  but  four  stations  more, 
and  Malolos  would  be  reached. 

The  strange  behavior  of  our  travelling  companion 

9 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

now  attracted  our  attention.  His  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  us  with  a  burning  intensity,  and,  although  we 
returned  the  stare,  he  was  not  in  the  least  embarrassed 
by  that ;  on  the  contrary,  his  behavior  became  almost 
insulting.  No  sooner  had  the  train  come  to  a  stand- 
still at  Meycauayan,  the  third  station,  when  he  arose 
hurriedly  and  left  the  car.  We  were  pleased  to  be  re- 
lieved of  his  presence.  For  a  long  time  we  waited  and 
wondered  what  was  detaining  the  train,  when  suddenly 
the  door  of  our  compartment  was  reopened,  and  a 
young  Insurgent  officer  appeared,  motioning  us  with 
his  hand  to  descend.  Outside  on  the  platform  stood 
three  soldiers  and  our  late  travelling  companion  from 
Manila,  grinning  maliciously  an  "  Adios  "  to  us  as  he 
re-entered  the  car  and  the  train  pulled  out  once  more. 

Turning  to  us,  the  young  officer  said :  "  The  sefior 
says  that  you  are  American  spies — it  is  my  duty  to 
arrest  you."  Neither  my  friend  nor  I  was  at  that  time 
very  proficient  in  Spanish,  and  these  may  not  have 
been  the  exact  words  the  lieutenant  made  use  of,  but 
what  he  said  gave  us  the  impression  that  they  would 
have  done.  He  was  quiet  and  polite,  but  his  manner 
was  far  more  awing  than  that  of  the  blustering  little 
individual  we  encountered  on  our  former  trip  to 
Malate. 

Before  proceeding  farther  I  may  as  well  mention 
that  some  time  afterward  we  again  saw  the  "  sefior  " 
who  had  caused  our  arrest,  in  the  full-dress  uniform 
of  Aguinaldo's  staff,  but  at  that  time  he  was  so  flus- 
trated  by  the  manner  in  which  some  thousands  of  our 
compatriots  were  coming  up  the  same  road  that  we 
had  taken,  that  he  did  not  notice  us.  Only  on  this 
occasion  they  could  not  well  be  arrested. 

ID 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

Placing  us  in  charge  of  a  sergeant  and  three  men, 
they  made  us  walk  a  distance  of  about  two  miles  be- 
fore we  reached  the  town  of  Meycauayan,  where  the 
head-quarters  of  this  especial  district  was  stationed. 
The  Filipinos  divided  the  country  up  into  military  dis- 
tricts called  "  comandancias,"  each  in  charge  of  a  head 
officer,  or  "  comandante  "  (equal  to  our  major),  who 
was  held  responsible  for  the  observance  of  the  military 
laws  within  the  limits  of  his  domain.  This,  however, 
was  quite  apart  from  the  civil  government. 

In  the  road  we  attracted  almost  as  much  attention  as 
a  Fourth  of  July  parade  in  an  American  country  town 
— hundreds  of  men,  women,  and  children  flocking 
around  to  see  us.  The  sergeant  and  his  soldiers  were 
perfectly  willing  to  answer  all  questions  asked,  but  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  they  exaggerated  the  diffi- 
culty of  our  capture  somewhat. 

Meycauayan  could  hardly  be  called  a  modern  town. 
Some  of  the  buildings  would  have  delighted  the  heart 
of  an  antiquarian.  At  one  time  there  had  been  quite 
a  number  of  medium-sized  stone  buildings,  but  now 
very  few  of  them  could  boast  a  roof.  In  the  interior 
of  some,  trees  were  growing,  throwing  their  limbs  up 
through  the  broken  tiles  and  second-story  windows. 

The  only  building  that  seemed  in  any  state  of  pres- 
ervation at  all  was  the  church  and  convent,  standing 
at  one  end  of  the  plaza;  this  seems  to  be  a  special 
feature  of  every  Filipino  town.  Even  if  there  be  but 
a  dozen  bamboo  huts,  a  large  stone  building,  the 
church,  with  a  long  two-story  wing  attached,  the  con- 
vent, invariably  overlooks  the  plaza,  very  similar  in 
architecture  to  those  formerly  built  by  the  friars  in 
California. 

II 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

The  Filipinos,  however,  had  converted  the  convent 
of  Meycauayan  into  barracks  and  military  head-quar- 
ters, the  tricolor  flag  of  the  Insurgent  republic  flutter- 
ing over  the  entrance. 

To  this  building  our  guards  conducted  us.  Quite 
a  throng  of  soldiers  and  Spaniards  congregated  about 
us  as  we  stood  waiting  for  some  time  at  the  door. 
These  latter,  ragged  and  miserable-looking,  were  part 
of  the  6,000  prisoners  that  were  held  by  the  Insurgent 
Government  that  had  refused  to  deliver  them  at  the 
demand  of  General  Otis. 

At  length  we  were  taken  up  to  the  floor  above,  and 
kept  anxiously  waiting  for  over  an  hour  in  a  large 
ante-room  before  an  audience  was  granted.  Finally 
a  door  opened  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  and  we 
were  ushered  into  the  oflice  of  the  local  Military  Gov- 
ernor, or  Comandante. 

Now  all  the  Filipino  officers  that  I  had  ever  spoken 
to  (and  I  had  come  in  contact  with  a  good  many  in 
Cavite,  before  the  fall  of  Manila)  had  been,  with  the 
exception  of  our  eccentric  acquaintance  in  Malate, 
very  polite  and  courteous  in  their  behavior,  tolerating 
my  vile  Spanish  with  patience  and  affability,  so  that 
upon  entering  the  comandante's  office  I  expected  to 
be  received  with  polite  bows — "  Buenos  dias,  sefiores," 
etc.  Imagine,  then,  what  a  shock  I  experienced  when 
upon  entering,  on  crossing  the  threshold,  we  were 
greeted  with  a  torrent  of  Spanish  profanity,  emanating 
from  an  excited  fat  little  Filipino  behind  a  large  desk, 
frantically  waving  a  Malay  kris  over  his  head  with 
one  hand,  while  in  the  other  he  held  a  Colt's  revolver, 
the  hammer  of  which  he  was  snapping  with  wonderful 
rapidity,  producing  a  sound  similar  to  a  typewriter  in 

12 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

full  operation,  and  on  each  side  of  us  stood  a  file  of 
soldiers  with  Remingtons  with  fixed  bayonets,  pointed 
at  us  as  if  about  to  charge. 

The  carefully  prepared  little  speech  on  which  I  had 
exhausted  my  entire  Spanish  vocabulary  was  entirely 
shattered;  we  stood  dazed  and  stupefied  at  the  vehe- 
mence of  that  hostile  reception.  But  my  composure 
gradually  returned  as  I  realized  that  every  dog  barks 
loudest  from  his  own  kennel,  and  we  were  no  longer 
inside  American  lines. 

Any  attempt  at  an  explanation  was  useless.  Every 
time  I  ventured  a  word  I  found  myself  looking  down 
the  muzzle  of  the  Colt.  No  explanations  were  wanted, 
we  were  not  only  Americans,  but  spies,  scoundrels, 
hogs,  dogs,  and  a  variety  of  other  bad  things.  Dur- 
ing the  half  hour  we  spent  in  the  presence  of  this  rabid 
little  officer,  I  learned  more  Spanish  profanity  than  a 
two-months'  stay  in  Manila  had  taught  me.  His 
appearance  was  by  no  means  prepossessing:  his  com- 
plexion was  but  a  shade  lighter  than  ebony,  his  teeth 
protruded  between  thick  and  prominent  lips,  and  so 
conspicuous  was  the  upward  slant  of  his  eyes  that  in  his 
anger  he  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  Chinese  Joss. 
His  wearing  apparel  was  far  from  what  I  thought  an 
officer  in  any  army  should  appear  in,  being  limited  to 
a  pair  of  soiled  white  trousers  and  an  unwashed  shirt, 
the  tail  of  which  fluttered  in  the  fresh  breeze  that  came 
in  through  the  open  doors  and  windows.  His  feet 
were  bare  and  the  heelless  slippers  in  which  he  rested 
them  had  certainly  been  worn  for  years. 

Having  exhausted  his  breath,  the  officer  pompous- 
ly waved  his  hand  to  the  guards  and  we  were  con- 
ducted out  of  th  room  and  down  into  the  street.     A 

13 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

short  walk  down  an  adjoining  road  brought  us  before 
a  small  house  built  of  timber  but  roofed  with  nipa,''^ 
into  which  our  guards  made  us  enter.  This  was  the 
private  dwelling  of  the  comandante,  the  commanding 
officer,  and  as  we  entered  I  half  expected  another 
scene,  but  the  well-dressed,  elderly  officer  who  received 
us  at  the  door  was  very  gentlemanly  and  courteous, 
offering  each  of  us  a  chair.  With  the  exception  of  a 
number  of  chromos  and  wax  figures  of  the  Holy  Vir- 
gin, Jesus,  and  various  saints,  the  room  was  rather 
barely  furnished,  a  table  and  a  few  chairs  being  the 
most  conspicuous  objects.  There  were  a  number  of 
insipid-looking  women  in  the  room,  apparently  of  the 
same  social  standing,  yet  one  was  the  comandante's 
wife,  and  the  rest  but  servants. 

Our  host,  if  I  may  so  call  him,  gave  some  orders 
to  these  women,  and  soon  a  small  table  in  the  room  was 
set  with  rice,  bread,  sardines,  bananas,  and  imported 
wine,  to  which  we  were  invited  to  seat  ourselves. 

After  dinner,  the  officer  who  had  received  us  at  the 
convent  in  such  a  hostile  manner,  appeared,  now  in 
full-dress  uniform,  two  silver  stars  on  a  red  shoulder 
strap  on  each  shoulder  announcing  his  rank  as  that  of 

*  A  species  of  palm,  resembling  a  large  fern,  and  growing  in  abundance 
in  swamps.  Its  leaves  are  used  to  thatch  the  huts  of  the  poor,  and  even 
the  larger  houses  of  the  better  classes,  being  much  cooler  than  tiles  or 
galvanized  iron. 

From  the  stems  a  juice  is  obtained,  which,  in  itself  a  delicious  beverage, 
is  also  distilled  into  what  is  commonly  called  in  the  Philippines  "vino  de 
nipa,"  an  alcoholic  drink  even  stronger  than  whiskey.  Every  evening 
the  gatherer  makes  a  slight  incision  in  the  stems  close  to  the  ground,  and 
places  underneath  a  joint  of  bamboo  to  receive  the  drops  of  juice  that 
ooze  out  during  the  night.  This  is  called  "tuba,"  and  in  the  morning 
is  refreshingly  cool  and  sweet,  but  by  the  afternoon  is  sour  as  vinegar, 
for  which  purpose  the  natives  use  it  extensively. 

14 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

a  first  lieutenant.  Apparently  he  was  the  coman- 
dante's  adjutant.  The  two  conversed  together  for 
some  time,  in  a  low  tone,  throwing  an  occasional 
glance  in  our  direction.  At  length  the  two  approached 
us  with  my  camera,  and  giving  it  to  me  asked  an  ex- 
planation of  its  manipulation.  The  camera  was  now 
in  my  hands  for  the  first  time  since  our  arrest,  and 
uriperceived  by  them  I  exposed  to  light  the  only  view 
we  had  taken  that  day,  thus  destroying  any  evidence 
against  us.  Their  knowledge  of  photography  seemed 
to  be  limited,  and  when  I  showed  them  the  inner 
mechanism  of  the  "  machina,"  as  they  called  it,  they 
were  as  surprised  and  pleased  as  children.  Then  I 
photographed  the  comandante  in  his  own  doorway  in 
different  positions,  and  his  delight  was  childlike  in  its 
effusiveness.  He  asked  us  to  send  him  the  pictures 
from  Manila! 

Huber  and  I  glanced  at  one  another,  as  he  said 
this — evidently  we  were  to  be  allowed  to  return. 

At  about  3  P.M.  a  soldier  came  from  the  convent 
and  delivered  a  message  to  the  comandante.  Glanc- 
ing at  it  a  moment,  he  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  lieu- 
tenant, and  the  latter  hurriedly  left  the  room. 

Half  an  hour  passed,  when  a  second  messenger  ap- 
peared and  spoke  to  the  comandante  in  Tagalog,  the 
native  dialect.  Our  three  guards,  who  had  been  in  an 
adjoining  out-house,  were  called  in,  and  we  were  told 
to  return  to  the  head-quarters  in  the  convent  with 
them.  Upon  reaching  the  plaza  we  found  a  large 
mob  assembled,  through  which  our  guards  had  some 
difficulty  in  forcing  our  way,  but  at  length  we  entered 
the  building  and  ascended  the  stairs  to  the  floor  above 
and  entered  the  office.     The  lieutenant  was  seated 

15 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

calmly  behind  his  desk  this  time,  and  lined  up  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  room  stood  three  white  men,  who 
at  a  glance  we  knew  were  not  Spaniards.  Any  doubts 
on  this  point  were  soon  dispelled  by  one  of  them  call- 
ing out:  "Hello,  are  you  prisoners  too?"  "Yes," 
we  answered,  "  but  who  are  you?  " 

All  further  attempt  at  conversation  was  here  cut 
short  by  the  lieutenant. 

He  who  had  spoken  to  us  was  a  young  man  of  not 
more  than  thirty  years,  fair  haired,  with  a  light  mus- 
tache and  blue  eyes,  his  appearance,  together  with  a 
slight  accent,  convincing  me  that  he  was  a  bona-fide 
Englishman.  His  clothes  were  rather  rough,  consist- 
ing of  an  army  shirt  and  blue  American  overalls,  but 
his  two  companions  were  faultlessly  attired  in  immacu- 
late white  suits. 

We  had  not  been  in  the  room  ten  minutes  before 
the  lieutenant  motioned  us  out  again,  the  guards  re- 
turning with  us  to  the  comandante's  house. 

Another  half  hour  passed,  when  the  lieutenant  re- 
appeared, his  countenance  dark  and  forbidding.  He 
and  his  superior  at  once  held  a  long  consultation  in 
another  room,  but  beyond  a  few  unintelligible  words 
we  could  hear  nothing,  still  we  felt  that  what  was 
said  vitally  concerned  us. 

When  they  again  entered,  even  the  comandante's 
otherwise  genial  countenance  looked  gloomy.  Turn- 
ing to  us,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said:  "  Vamos 
a  Malolos!  "  What  could  have  caused  this  sudden 
darkening  of  the  horizon,  our  glances  asked  each 
other,  but  to  which  no  reply  was  found.  Little  did 
we  then  dream  that  to  secure  the  safety  of  his  own 
miserable  person,  one  of  our  own  race  had  denounced 

i6 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

us  as  spies,  neither  knowing  nor  caring  whether  it  was 
true  or  not,  or  what  the  consequences  to  us  might  be, 
but  long  afterward,  when  this  man  was  free  and  en- 
joying the  comforts  of  civiHzed  life,  we  heard  the  tale 
of  his  treachery,  told  us  while  we  were  enduring  the 
misery  and  suffering  from  which  he  had  escaped  at 
our  cost. 

Half  an  hour  later  we  bid  the  comandante  good-by, 
and  in  charge  of  a  corporal  and  two  men  left  Meycaua- 
yan,  the  five  of  us  squeezing  ourselves  into  two  native 
vehicles  called  "carromata";*  Huber  and  the  two  sol- 
diers in  one,  and  the  corporal  and  I  in  another.  We 
drove  off  in  a  northerly  direction  along  a  road  lined 
on  both  sides  for  miles  by  small  bamboo  huts,  shaded 
by  large  spreading  mango-trees  and  palms,  while  be- 
yond stretched  the  broad,  bare  rice-paddies. 

An  hour's  drive  brought  us  to  the  banks  of  a  river 
too  deep  to  ford,  so  we  were  obliged  to  leave  our 
vehicles,  crossing  the  river  by  a  ferry,  consisting  of  a 
bamboo  raft,  pulled  across  by  means  of  a  number  of 
creepers  knotted  together  and  stretched  from  bank  to 
bank. 

On  the  other  side  lay  another  town,  smaller  than 
Meycauayan;  this  was  Bocave.  The  entire  population 
turned  out  to  see  us,  a  large  number  of  starved-look- 
ing  Spanish  prisoners  mingling  with  the  crowd. 

To  maintain  these  prisoners,  the  Insurgent  Govern- 
ment distributed  them  among  the  towns,  and  the  mu- 
nicipal authorities  in  their  turn  quartered  them  on 
private  individuals;  thus  these  prisoners  cost  the  Gov- 
ernment nothing. 

*  A  light  two-wheeled  cart  with  a  seating  capacity  for  two  persons, 
drawn  by  one  horse  ^  a  sort  of  buggy. 

17 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

In  Bocave  no  vehicles  could  be  procured,  so  we 
continued  on  foot.  We  now  had  a  two-hours'  march 
through  a  very  flat  and  uninteresting  country.  Shortly 
before  sunset  we  reached  a  large  bridge  over  a  wide 
river — we  were  now  in  the  outskirts  of  the  old  Tagalog 
capital,  the  seat  of  the  ancient  Mohammedan  rajas, 
Bulacan. 

At  the  bridge  we  were  met  by  half  a  company  of 
soldiers,  who,  we  noticed,  were  armed  with  Mausers. 
Forming  into  a  hollow  square,  we  two  were  placed  in 
the  centre  and  marched  into  town  in  great  state, 

Bulacan  has  been  razed  to  the  ground  by  fire  and 
shell  since,  but  it  was  then  the  most  beautiful  town  that 
I  ever  passed  through  while  in  the  Philippines.  The 
streets  were  comparatively  wide,  and  fine  buildings  and 
handsome  tropical  gardens  were  plentiful. 

Into  one  of  the  most  prominent  houses  we  were  then 
taken — formerly  the  Spanish  governor's  residence,  we 
were  told — and  were  seated  on  a  wide  veranda  over- 
looking a  garden  dense  with  tropical  foliage.  The 
house  was  now  used  as  officers'  quarters,  and  probably 
the  head-quarters  of  the  comandancia.  Soon  we  found 
ourselves  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  gayly  dressed 
young  officers,  the  majority  but  boys,  some  not  out  of 
their  teens.  One  spoke  a  few  words  of  English  and 
informed  us  that  we  were  to  go  on  to  Malolos  to  be 
court-martialled  as  spies — such  were  the  written  orders 
the  corporal  had  brought  from  Meycauayan.  The 
majority  of  these  young  men  were  of  gentlemanly  be- 
havior, and  displayed  no  rudeness  in  their  curiosity. 

Suddenly,  through  the  crowd,  a  small  boy  came 
pushing  forward,  and,  rushing  up  before  Huber,  peered 
closely  into  his  face  as  if  to  scrutinize  every  feature. 

i8 


The  Trip  to  Malolos 

Turning  quickly  around  he  spoke  a  few  excited  words 
to  the  surrounding  bystanders,  and  turning  to  us  once 
more  he  said  to  Huber:  "  Me  sabe  you,  hospital  de 
Manila.  You  no  Englishman,  you  Americano,  mucho 
malo!" 

This  was  an  unexpected  turn.  Clearly  we  had 
chosen  an  unlucky  day.  The  boy  had  probably  been 
one  of  the  numerous  native  servants  in  the  Manila 
hospital,  and  recognized  Huber.  However,  the  by- 
standers did  not  seem  to  pay  much  attention  to  his 
words,  and  we  hoped  the  lad's  youth  would  prevent 
his  statement  from  being  received  as  evidence  against 
us.  The  incident  aroused  dark  forebodings  in  us, 
though. 

We  saw  quite  a  number  of  Spanish  prisoners  who 
seemed  to  be  employed  about  the  house  as  domestic 
servants,  one,  to  whom  we  spoke  a  few  words,  being 
a  boy  of  not  more  than  fifteen  years,  a  bugler. 

At  about  eight  that  night  we  resumed  our  march 
by  the  light  of  a  full  tropical  moon,  guarded  by  a  ser- 
geant and  seven  men.  For  three  hours  we  marched 
through  dense  jungles,  marshes,  and  rice-fields,  thickly 
populated,  nevertheless,  and  shortly  before  midnight 
arrived  at  the  Insurgent  capital,  Malolos.  This  was 
really  what  we  had  started  out  to  see,  and  apparently 
we  were  at  least  not  to  be  disappointed  in  that  respect. 

From  the  outskirts  of  town  to  the  plaza  was  but  a 
short  walk.  There  stood  the  inevitable  church  and 
convent,  the  latter  a  magnificent  building  illuminated 
by  electric  lights.  This  was  Aguinaldo's  head-quar- 
ters, his  private  residence. 

In  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour  we  attracted 
quite  a  crowd,  and  for  half  an  hour  stood  there  in 

19 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  open  plaza,  the  objects  of  insults  and  abuse.  At 
length  an  officer  appeared  and  conducted  us  down 
a  side  street  to  a  small  stone  building,  uninviting 
and  cheerless  in  appearance.  By  the  light  of  a  street 
laiTip  we  saw  above  the  entrance,  in  large  letters, 
"  Gobierno  Militar."  This  was,  as  we  learned  after- 
ward, the  head-quarters  of  the  military  governor  of 
the  entire  province,  but  only  the  upper  floor;  the 
ground-floor  was  used  for  an  entirely  different  pur- 
pose, as  we  were  soon  to  learn. 

We  were  at  once  taken  upstairs  into  an  office  in 
which  were  seated  a  number  of  officers  about  a  table. 
One,  a  pessimistic-looking  middle-aged  man,  we  took 
to  be  the  governor,  nor  were  we  mistaken  in  this,  for 
we  learned  to  know  Don  Francisco  Donato  only  too 
well  afterward.  Here  we  underwent  some  sort  of  an 
examination,  or  maybe  a  court-martial,  but  the  deci- 
sion of  the  court  remained  a  secret. 

Having  concluded,  an  officer  conducted  us  down- 
stairs again;  a  heavy  wooden  door  swung  open, 
creaking  dismally,  and  we  were  rudely  shoved  into 
a  room.  The  bright  moonlight  came  in  through  a 
small  window,  but  this  only  served  to  distinctly  out- 
line the  massive  iron  bars  deeply  embedded  in  the  solid 
masonry.  The  room  was  not  large,  about  half  the 
size  of  a  railway-car  at  home,  but  the  floor  was  cov- 
ered by  sleeping  forms  so  closely  that  we  with  great 
difficulty  found  a  space  sufficiently  large  to  stretch 
our  weary  limbs.  We  were  soon  dead  to  the  outside 
world,  unconscious  that  this  was  the  first  night  of  an 
imprisonment  and  experience  through  which  it  is  hap- 
pily but  the  lot  of  few  to  pass  in  these  modern  times. 


20 


CHAPTER  II 

FIRST   DAYS   OF   CAPTIVITY 

Interior  of  Malolos  prison — The  Macabebe  officer — Arrival  of 
David  Arnold — The  five  engineers — George  Peters — The 
engineers  and  Peters  are  released — Interviewed  by  Baldo- 
mero  Aguinaldo,  Secretary  of  War — Bruce  and  Honeyman 
arrive — The  night  of  February  4,  1899. 

UPON  awakening  in  the  morning,  a  faint  dif- 
fused light  the  dawning  day  was  sending  in 
through  the  heavily  barred  window  was  just 
commencing  to  make  my  surroundings  visible,  and, 
anxious  to  inspect  this  hole  in  which  we  now  found 
ourselves  confined,  I  arose  into  a  sitting  posture  and 
glanced  about  me.  What  met  my  eyes  was  far  from 
encouraging;  truly  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  dis- 
guise the  nature  of  this  establishment — it  looked  every 
inch  a  dungeon. 

Besides  my  companion  and  myself,  there  were  at 
least  fourteen  more  occupants  of  this  cell,  three  of 
whom  were  Spaniards,  and  the  rest  natives.  Some 
had  already  awakened  and  sat  up  rubbing  their  eyes, 
yawning;  others  lay  still  slumbering  on  the  rough 
floor,  their  misery  and  troubles  forgotten  for  the  time 
being  at  least.  And  such  companions  as  these !  With 
the  exception  of  the  three  Spaniards  the  rest  were  ap- 
parently of  the  dregs  of  Filipino  society,  of  brutish 
and  criminal  aspect.    A  form  that  had  been  lying  in 

21 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

a  dark  comer,  now  moved,  arose,  and  stepped  into 
the  light.    Lord  help  her — it  was  a  woman! 

At  one  end  of  the  cell  stood  a  rudely  constructed 
bamboo  bed,  which,  with  an  old  cane  reclining-chair, 
the  bottom  of  which  was  broken  through,  seemed  to 
be  all  the  furniture  of  which  the  whole  room  could 
boast.  As  the  light  increased,  the  form  of  a  young 
man  gradually  revealed  itself  on  the  cot,  whose  ap- 
pearance formed  so  marked  a  contrast  to  the  others 
that  my  attention  was  at  once  attracted  to  him.  So 
light  was  his  complexion  that  a  casual  observer  might 
have  taken  him  for  a  pure  Spaniard,  but  a  slight 
prominence  of  the  cheek-bones,  an  almost  impercep- 
tible upward  turn  of  eyes  and  eyebrows,  and  the  sparse- 
ness  of  his  mustache  betrayed  the  native  blood  in 
his  veins.  The  white  pajamas  enveloping  his  limbs 
were  spotlessly  clean,  and  a  Spanish  uniform  that  hung 
by  his  side  on  the  wall  led  me  to  believe  that  he  had 
been  an  officer  in  the  Spanish  army,  but  whatever  he 
was,  his  general  appearance  gave  an  impression  of 
education  and  refinement. 

Gradually  all  the  prisoners  awoke,  one  by  one,  and, 
rolling  up  their  mats,  squatted  down  on  their  heels, 
for  want  of  better  occupation.  This  manner  of  pass- 
ing away  surplus  time  is  universal  throughout  the 
Orient,  but  the  Filipinos  have  a  peculiar  way  of  their 
own  of  doing  this,  which,  if  imitated  by  a  foreigner, 
generally  causes  him  to  roll  gently  backward  until  his 
heels  have  reached  a  greater  elevation  than  his  head. 
At  length  some  lazily  commenced  to  scrape  and  clean 
dirty  cooking-utensils,  while  the  woman,  having  col- 
lected a  copper  coin  from  each  individual,  placed  a 
large  empty  basket  on  her  head  and  began  to  adminis- 

22 


First  Days  of  Captivity 

ter  a  succession  of  kicks  to  the  closed  door.  After 
a  great  deal  of  confusion  among  the  guards  outside, 
and  the  noise  occasioned  by  drawing  of  bolts  and  re- 
moval of  bars,  it  swung  slowly  open  and  the  female 
passed  outside.     Evidently  she  was  going  marketing. 

The  door,  once  open,  was  allowed  to  remain  so,  and, 
disgusted  with  my  gloomy  surroundings,  I  arose  and 
went  out  to  explore  the  limits  of  the  prison,  while 
Huber,  equally  disgusted,  tried  once  more  to  seek 
oblivion  in  sleep. 

The  main  entrance  from  the  street,  immediately 
outside,  was  crowded  with  lounging  soldiers  in  all 
stages  of  sleepiness.  Turning  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion I  found  myself  in  a  yard,  enclosed  by  a  stone  wall 
of  such  height  that  the  sun's  rays,  as  yet,  were  alto- 
gether excluded. 

Here  it  was  that  soldiers  and  prisoners  cooked  their 
meals  on  primitive  stoves  of  bricks  and  tiles,  the  latter 
having  dropped  from  the  roof  of  the  building.  From 
the  constant  use  of  water  for  culinary  purposes  the 
ground  had  become  a  mass  of  slimy  mud,  through 
which  the  barefooted  natives  tramped,  evidently  with 
as  much  relish  as  the  pig  that  had  buried  himself  so 
deep  in  the  yielding  mixture  in  one  corner  of  the  en- 
closure that  nothing  but  his  snout  remained  visible, 
emitting  an  occasional  grunt  of  contentment.  For 
some  moments  I  stood  gazing  at  this  scene,  then 
turned  on  my  heel  and  re-entered  the  cell,  which,  I 
had  mentally  decided,  was  a  trifle  more  endurable. 

By  this  time  the  young  mestizo  was  up  and  dressed. 
He  seemed  pleased  when  I  seated  myself  on  the  edge 
of  his  bed,  and  at  once  entered  into  conversation  with 
me,  speaking  a  broken  mixture  of  Spanish  and  Eng- 

23 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

lish,  the  former  predominating.  Nevertheless,  we 
seemed  to  comprehend  one  another  fairly  well,  and  in 
a  short  time  he  had  given  me  his  history. 

Formerly  the  Spanish  Government  recruited  a  num- 
ber of  native  regiments,  principally  composed  of  Maca- 
bebes,  they  being  preferred  on  account  of  their  stanch 
adherence  to  their  Caucasian  rulers,  not  due  to  any 
particular  love  for  the  Spaniard,  but  to  their  deadly 
hatred  of  the  Tagalog.  Few  in  numbers,  compared 
to  their  hereditary  enemies,  they  found  their  principal 
means  of  defence  in  faithfully  clinging  to  the  Spaniard, 
knowing  well  that  in  case  of  a  successful  establish- 
ment of  a  native  government  their  doom  as  an  inde- 
pendent faction  would  soon  be  sealed  by  the  hated 
Tagalogs,  especially  as  the  small  territory  inhabited  by 
them  in  the  province  of  Pampanga  is  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  Tagalog  country. 

Now  this  young  Captain  Mariano,  as  he  called  him- 
self, was  a  Macabebe,  and,  holding  a  commission  un- 
der the  Spanish  Government,  had  commanded  a  com- 
pany of  native  soldiers.  Remaining  faithful  to  their 
colors,  Captain  Mariano  and  his  company  of  Maca- 
bebes  intrenched  themselves  in  a  convent,  and  held 
out  against  the  besieging  Tagalogs  until  lack  of  am- 
munition, water,  and  food  compelled  them  to  surren- 
der. Since  then  the  young  officer  had  been  closely 
confined,  being  told  that  the  only  means  by  which 
he  ever  could  gain  his  liberty  would  be  by  enrolling 
himself  in  the  cause  of  the  new  republic.  Six  months 
he  had  now  held  out,  but  the  long  imprisonment  was 
beginning  to  tell  on  him. 

The  other  three  Spaniards  were  but  common  sol- 
diers, one  being  confined  for  attempting  to  escape  into 

24 


First  Days  of  Captivity 

our  lines;  another  was  Mariano's  servant.  (Every 
Spanish  officer  is  entitled  to  choose  a  private  soldier  as 
his  personal  attendant.)  The  third  was  a  boy  of  nine- 
teen, whom  the  others  called  Antonio.  He  did  not 
make  the  best  impression  at  first  sight,  partly,  per- 
haps, on  account  of  the  disagreeable  droop  to  his  eyes. 
He  was  not  in  confinement,  only  making  the  cell  his 
sleeping-quarters.  Evidently  he  had  good  reasons  for 
remaining  in  prison  voluntarily,  for,  as  developed  later, 
he  was  a  hanger-on  and  toady  to  the  officers  upstairs, 
with  the  object  of  obtaining  that  to  which  Mariano 
preferred  rigorous  confinement. 

Soon  everybody  was  engaged  with  the  morning 
meal,  but  as  nobody  had  as  yet  offered  to  supply 
us  with  means  by  which  to  bring  our  long  fast  to 
an  end,  we  went  outside  and  explained  to  the  sergeant 
of  the  guard  that  we  were  accustomed  to  eat  some- 
times, that  it  was  a  habit  of  twenty  years'  standing, 
and  that  it  would  be  decidedly  inconvenient  and  even 
disastrous  to  us  to  break  it  off  so  suddenly.  He  re- 
plied that  we  had  his  full  sympathy,  and  that  we  must 
not  despair;  within  the  next  few  days  we  should  re- 
ceive the  prison  ration  of  seven  cents  and  a  pound  of 
rice  a  day.  We  were,  however,  too  unreasonable  to 
be  willing  to  wait  a  few  days,  and  so  at  length  per- 
suaded Miguela,  as  our  female  cell-mate  was  called, 
to  go  out  to  the  market  and  buy  us  a  few  bananas, 
she  being  allowed  to  leave  the  prison  at  all  times,  her 
husband,  also  a  prisoner,  being  considered  a  sure 
hostage  for  her  return. 

That  day  dragged  slowly  by.  In  spite  of  the  almost 
frantic  efforts  we  made  to  obtain  an  interview  with 
some  officer,  none  approached  us.    That  first  day  was 

25 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

probably  one  of  the  worst  we  ever  passed.  Forced  to 
remain  in  close  companionship  with  those  repulsive 
creatures,  imprisoned  for  crimes  as  hideous  as  their 
forms,  and  then  to  be  treated  by  them  with  a  dis- 
gusting familiarity,  was  next  to  maddening. 

Mariano  seemed  to  feel  a  good  deal  of  sympathy 
for  us,  and,  through  his  influence,  we  received  an  old 
sleeping-mat  large  enough  for  the  two  of  us,  and  a 
small  space  on  the  floor,  whereon  to  spread  it.  When 
night  came  we  retired,  but  there  being  sixteen  of  us, 
our  quarters  were  cramped,  to  put  it  mildly.  At  one 
side  I  found  a  filthy  Tagalog  so  close  to  me  that  his 
breath,  suggestive  of  decayed  fish,  fanned  my  cheek. 
I  tried  to  escape  this  horror  by  crowding  Huber,  but 
he  was  likewise  flanked  on  the  other  side.  A  socialist 
in  our  situation  would  have  had  his  ideas  considerably 
modified.  That  night  I  became  a  Darwinist.  Later 
on,  rats,  lizards,  and  a  species  of  large  beetle  appeared 
and  promenaded  about  the  floor  and  walls.  Had  they 
only  confined  themselves  to  that  I  should  not  have 
complained,  but  they  became  entangled  in  my  hair, 
crawled  down  my  back  inside  of  my  clothes,  tickled 
the  soles  of  my  feet,  and,  in  fact,  made  themselves 
obnoxious  in  general. 

It  must  have  been  past  eight  o'clock  when  the  door, 
having  been  closed  at  sunset,  noisily  opened,  and  two 
men  entered,  but  so  faint  was  the  single  light  in  the 
cell,  consisting  of  a  string  in  a  cup  of  cocoanut  oil, 
that  I  could  distinguish  no  more  than  the  bare  outlines 
of  their  figures,  advancing  slowly,  picking  their  way, 
into  the  middle  of  the  floor.  I  was  suddenly  startled 
by  hearing  in  pure  English,  "  Where  are  the  two 
Englishmen?  "    I  jumped  to  my  feet  and  found  my- 

26 


First  Days  of  Captivity- 
self  face  to  face  with  a  white  man,  evidently  Anglo- 
Saxon.    We  shook  hands. 

The  new-comer  introduced  himself  as  David  Ar- 
nold,* native  of  Montreal,  Canada,  prisoner  like  us; 
his  companion  was  an  Insurgent  ofificer.  That  after- 
noon he  had  ventured  on  a  trip  by  train  to  Malolos, 
but,  on  arriving,  had  been  arrested.  His  visit  had 
been  intended  merely  as  a  pleasure  trip,  but  the  In- 
surgent officials  had  refused  to  listen  to  his  explana- 
tions, consequently  he  was  now  a  prisoner. 

For  some  time  we  stood  conversing,  the  officer 
standing  by  listening,  as  if  he  comprehended  every 
word,  but  at  length  he  took  Arnold  by  the  arm  again 
and  bid  us  good-night.  The  door  was  closed  and  I 
lay  down  to  resume  the  fight  with  the  lizards,  the  rats, 
and  the  beetles,  which  in  the  meantime  had  been  rein- 
forced by  mosquitoes. 

The  three  or  four  succeeding  days  appeared  to  us 
like  ages,  our  suspense  and  anxiety  being  intense. 
Whenever  we  caught  sight  of  an  officer  we  tried  to 
obtain  some  information,  but  were  invariably  met 
with,  "  No  se  sabe!  "  accompanied  by  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders — if  they  answered  at  all. 

Arnold  had  been  confined  in  another  cell  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  building,  and  several  times  we  saw 
him  in  the  yard,  but  in  a  few  terse  words  he  told  us 
once  that  he  had  been  strictly  forbidden  to  speak  to  us. 

One  day,  the  Tuesday  following  our  arrival,  I  be- 
lieve, we  heard  a  commotion  outside  in  the  entrance, 
which,  upon  investigation,  proved  to  be  occasioned  by 
the  arrival  of  six  more  American  prisoners.    We  saw 

*  For  reasons  that  will  develop  later,  the  true  name  of  this  man  has 
been  repressed,  and  the  assumed  one  of  Arnold  substituted. 

27 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

them  from  our  doorway,  but  were  not  allowed  to  con- 
verse with  each  other.  Evidently  they  were  soldiers, 
their  uniforms  told  us  that,  and  the  brass  towers  on 
their  campaign  hats  explained  that  they  were  engi- 
neers, undoubtedly  found  following  their  occupation 
too  far  beyond  the  American  outposts.  They  were 
confined  with  Arnold  on  the  other  side  of  the  entrance. 
We  could  not  understand  why  we  two  should  be  iso- 
lated; it  was  somewhat  depressing. 

A  day  or  two  later  still  another  prisoner  was 
brought  in,  a  young  man,  a  civilian,  apparently.  He 
stole  over  to  our  cell  unperceived  By  the  guards,  one 
evening,  and  held  a  conversation  with  us  for  at  least 
ten  minutes  before  he  was  discovered.  This  new  arrival 
proved  to  be  George  Peters,  war  correspondent  for 
an  eastern  magazine,  who,  while  taking  some  photo- 
graphic views  close  to  the  Insurgent  lines,  had  been 
captured  by  their  outposts,  but  who  was  too  well  ac- 
quainted with  Aguinaldo  and  his  chief  of^cers,  he  told 
us,  to  fear  a  long  imprisonment.  We  gave  him  our 
names,  requesting  him,"  in  case  he  should  be  liberated 
before  us,  to  report  to  the  proper  authorities  our  pres- 
ence here.  This  he  promised  to  do,  but  just  then  the 
sergeant  of  the  guard  appeared,  calling  the  interview 
oflf.  The  following  day  Mr.  Peters  disappeared,  so 
we  supposed  that  his  influence  had  secured  him  his 
liberty. 

One  evening  I  had  an  opportunity  to  speak  a  few 
words  to  one  of  the  engineers  who  was  cooking  a  pot 
of  rice  in  the  yard,  and,  having  a  vague  presentiment 
that  they  would  be  released  before  us,  gave  him  our 
names,  asking  him  to  report  us  to  the  British  Consul. 
As  we  had  entered  the  Insurgent  lines  as  Englishmen, 

28 


First  Days  of  Captivity 

we  were  bound  to  continue  the  deception,  and  our  only 
hope  was  that  the  British  Consul  would  demand  our 
release  without  too  close  investigation. 

The  following  day  the  engineers  disappeared,  hav- 
ing been  released  at  demand  of  General  Otis. 

As  I  learned  long  afterward,  the  engineer,  of  whose 
name  I  unfortunately  took  no  note,  kept  his  word,  and 
did  all  he  could  at  the  British  Consular  office,  and 
had  the  crisis  come  twenty-four  hours  later,  we  would 
have  been  saved;  but  I  have  often  wondered  at  the 
probable  outcome,  supposing  the  Consul  had  come  to 
Malolos  and  discovered  the  fraud — would  he  have  left 
us  to  our  fate?    Only  he  can  answer  that  question. 

One  evening  we  were  interviewed  by  the  Secretary 
of  War,  Baldomero  Aguinaldo,  cousin  of  the  Presi- 
dent. He  was  a  short,  heavy-set  but  well-built  man, 
rather  Japanese  in  features,  with  a  small  thin  mustache, 
and  of  dark  complexion,  even  for  a  Filipino.  He 
wore  the  usual  uniform  of  the  President's  staff,  a  coat 
of  narrow  blue  and  white  vertical  stripes,  crimson 
pants,  and  black  polished  riding-boots.  As  he  spoke 
excellent  English,  we  had  no  difficulty  in  understand- 
ing one  another,  but  the  interview  was  short. 

"  Why  did  you  venture  into  our  lines,"  he  began, 
"  when  you  knew  how  strained  the  situation  is?  The 
cord  may  snap  at  any  moment!"  But  to  our  in- 
quiries as  to  when  we  might  expect  to  be  released, 
his  only  answer  was  a  supercilious  sneer  and  a  shrug 
of  the  shoulders. 

This  same  Baldomero  Aguinaldo,  seeing  afterward 
how  hopeless  was  the  cause  of  Aguinaldo's  Republic, 
disguised  himself  as  a  common  laborer,  and,  coming 
boldly  into  our  lines,  passed  through  Manila,  taking 

29 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

passage  on  the  Hong-Kong  steamer,  and  safely  reach- 
ing that  neutral  port,  where  he  is  now  living  on  his 
savings  (?). 

Our  number  was  once  more  reduced  to  three,  Ar- 
nold, Huber,  and  myself,  but  on  Friday  morning  two 
more  were  added  to  the  Filipinos'  stock  of  American 
prisoners.  Two  white  men  appeared,  evidently  sol- 
diers, as  both  wore  uniforms,  but  we  were  not  allowed 
to  communicate  with  them  either,  and  they  were  at 
once  placed  together  with  Arnold.  So  now  we  num- 
bered five. 

Saturday  dragged  slowly  by,  and  was  an  uneventful 
day  to  us.  At  night  we  lay  down  on  the  floor  of 
our  cell  to  battle  with  reptiles,  rats,  and  insects,  as 
we  had  done  on  seven  occasions  previously,  but  at 
about  nine  o'clock  a  truce  was  declared  and  I  dropped 
off  into  a  quiet  slumber.  Some  time  during  the  night, 
exactly  when  neither  of  us  knew,  I  was  awakened 
by  Huber  shaking  me  excitedly  by  the  shoulder. 
"They've  commenced  fighting!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Listen!" 

We  listened.  With  the  exception  of  the  heavy 
breathing  of  the  sleepers,  all  was  silent. 

Suddenly  we  both  started,  for  from  the  southward 
we  plainly  heard  a  low,  deep  sound  Hke  the  buzz  of 
angry  bees  flying  by  one's  ear.    Brrr-um-brrr-um ! 


30 


CHAPTER   III 
CLOSE  CONFINEMENT 

Departure  of  Mariano — The  wounded  arrive — Threatened  by 
a  mob — New  companions — The  first  "  secreto  " — The  story 
of  "  Betel-Nuts  "  —  Visitors  —  "  Squint-Eye  "  —  Story  of 
"  Cigarettes  "  —  The  child  prisoner  in  the  stocks  —  The 
woman  prisoner. 

THE  tranquillity  and  quiet  which  prevailed  in 
Malolos  on  Sunday  morning,  February  5th, 
aroused  in  us  a  hope  that  we  might  after  all 
have  been  deceived  by  those  sounds  that  had  dis- 
turbed the  stillness  of  the  preceding  night :  they  might 
possibly  have  been  but  the  rumbling  of  distant 
thunder. 

Slowly  the  day  wore  on.  We  felt  sad  and  depressed, 
for  Mariano  had  gone,  leaving  us  alone  among  those 
disgusting  convicts,  whose  companionship  was  even 
more  trying  than  the  confinement.  Only  the  day  be- 
fore he  had  bid  us  "  Adios,"  but  his  prospective  libera- 
tion had  only  seemed  to  sadden  him.  Long  afterward 
we  saw  him  again,  but  the  shoulder-straps  he  wore 
were  no  longer  those  of  Spain.  It  had  taken  six 
months  to  break  his  fidelity  to  a  country  not  even  his 
own,  but  at  length  he  had  succumbed.  Having  tried 
a  week  already  of  what  he  had  endured  for  half  a 
year,  I  could  not  blame  him.  Six  months  among 
such  companions  would  have  broken  the  firmest  will. 

31' 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Antonio  likewise  had  disappeared,  but  when  we 
again  saw  him,  a  week  later,  a  second  lieutenant's 
uniform  had  so  transformed  his  appearance  that  we 
hardly  recognized  him.  At  length  his  ambition  had 
been  gratified.    Spanish-born  he  was,  too! 

The  unusual  quietness  seemed  almost  unnatural  un- 
til I  noticed  the  absence  of  the  soldiers  whose  quarters 
were  upstairs.  This  inspired  me  with  a  vague  feeling 
of  uneasiness — the  soldiers  had  never  been  absent  be- 
fore.   By  late  afternoon  they  had  still  not  returned. 

It  must  have  been  about  five  o'clock  when  I  was 
sitting  on  a  bench  outside  the  cell-door,  watching  the 
prisoners  cooking  their  rice  for  their  evening  meal, 
that  the  sound  of  an  excited  voice  attracted  my  at- 
tention from  the  yard  to  the  entrance.  A  soldier  stood 
haranguing  the  guards  in  the  native  dialect.  I  could, 
consequently,  not  understand  a  word  of  what  he  said, 
but  what  caused  me  to  take  particular  notice  of  him 
was  the  fact  that  his  clothes  were  spattered  with 
blood  and  one  of  his  arms  had  been  bandaged  and 
hung  in  a  sling.  The  guards  stood  listening  to  his 
words  with  intense  interest.  Presently  the  wounded 
man  left  them  and  rushed  upstairs,  A  moment  later 
another  appeared  in  the  entrance,  his  clothes  likewise 
blood-stained,  and,  saying  a  few  hurried  words  to  the 
now  excited  guards,  followed  the  first  one  to  the  floor 
above.  I  tried  to  make  myself  believe  that  the  two 
had  quarrelled  and  had  then  settled  their  dispute  with 
bolos,  but  when  a  third  man  passed  by  me  up  the 
stairs,  a  bloody  bandage  about  his  head,  my  heart 
sank.     I  called  to  Huber,  and  he  joined  me. 

By  this  time  a  crowd  of  excited  natives  had  gath- 
ered outside  in  the  street,  but  suddenly  a  deep  silence 

32 


Close  Confinement 

fell  over  all,  as  four  men  came  in  bearing  a  canvas  litter 
upon  which  a  man  lay  gasping  for  breath.  The  can- 
vas upon  which  he  lay  had  once  been  white,  but  was 
now  of  a  slimy  grayish  red,  while  from  underneath  a 
steady  streamlet  of  blood  was  trickling  to  the  ground. 
His  clothing,  although  torn  and  blood-stained,  was 
the  uniform  of  an  officer  of  high  rank  in  the  Insurgent 
army,  but  failed  to  hide  some  ghastly  wounds  on 
which  cotton  batting  had  been  pressed.  Carefully 
they  bore  him  upstairs,  but  it  needed  no  experienced 
eye  to  see  that  the  shadow  of  death  was  on  the 
wounded  man's  features. 

A  loud  and  hoarse  cry  now  arose  outside,  the  cry  of 
an  enraged  mob.  Miguela  grasped  us  by  the  arms 
and  tried  to  push  us  inside.  "Malo!"  "Malo!"she 
repeated  when  we  resisted,  and  at  length  we  con- 
cluded to  heed  her  warning,  for  even  the  guards  were 
throwing  sinister  glances  at  us. 

We  asked  no  questions  of  our  cell-mates,  nor  was 
any  information  volunteered.  The  subject  was  a  deli- 
cate one.  Some  glared  at  us  savagely,  others  appeared 
indifferent,  while  a  very  few,  Miguela  and  her  husband 
among  them,  seemed  friendly  and  even  sympathetic. 
There  now  remained  no  doubt  but  what  the  blow  had 
fallen. 

The  cries  of  the  mob  outside  waxed  louder  and  ac- 
quired more  volume.  Frequently  we  heard  shouts  of 
"  Viva  Filipinas!  "  and  "  Muerte  a  los  Americanos!  " 
but  whether  the  latter  words  applied  only  to  us  five 
in  the  prison,  or  to  the  whole  nation,  we  couldn't  tell, 
and  in  either  case  our  situation  was  not  pleasant. 

The  uproar  outside  had  become  almost  deafening, 
when  an  officer  and  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  ap- 

33 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

peared  and  beckoned  to  us  to  follow  them.  We  were 
conducted  across  the  passage-way  to  the  door  of  the 
other  cell  in  which  Arnold  and  the  two  soldiers  were 
confined.  We  stood  there  but  a  moment  while  the 
fastenings  were  being  undone,  but  in  that  short  time 
the  mob  outside  saw  us,  and  became  almost  frenzied 
with  rage.  The  guards  stood  in  the  portal,  barring 
the  way,  and  beyond  them,  outside,  a  seething  mass 
of  black  heads  and  half-naked  limbs.  But  the  cell- 
door  was  at  length  thrown  open,  we  were  thrust  in 
and  left  in  total  darkness,  the  door  being  closed  and 
barred. 

Arnold  and  his  two  companions  were  not  asleep. 
One  of  them  lit  a  match,  by  the  light  of  which  Huber 
and  myself  were  enabled  to  crawl  upon  a  bamboo 
structure,  supposed  to  serve  as  a  bed.  We  had  but 
little  to  say  to  one  another,  yet  I  doubt  if  any  of  my 
companions  fell  asleep  before  midnight.  The  sergeant 
of  the  guard  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  apprehension 
on  our  account;  every  half  hour  he  opened  the  door 
to  satisfy  himself  that  we  had  not  evaporated  or 
crawled  between  the  thick  iron  bars  of  the  window. 
When  at  length  I  did  fall  asleep,  it  was  only  to  dream 
of  the  crew  of  the  Virginius  in  Cuba. 

The  scene  that  revealed  itself  to  my  eyes  upon 
awakening  in  the  morning  was  not  a  cheering  one. 
My  companions  seemed  likewise  impressed,  for  they  all 
sat  on  the  bamboo  platform  on  which  we  had  been 
sleeping,  with  their  backs  against  the  wall,  their  hands 
clasped  about  their  knees  which  were  elevated  to  their 
chins,  staring  vacantly  at  the  wall  in  front  of  them, 
nobody  saying  a  word  for  a  long  time. 

I  had  likened  the  other  cell  to  a  dungeon,  but  this 

34 


Close  Confinement 

one  was  far  worse.  Of  but  half  the  size,  it  was  more 
gloomy  and  had  no  flooring  but  the  damp  earth.  Two 
bamboo  cots,  a  sort  of  platform,  filled  almost  the 
entire  space,  leaving  but  a  narrow  passage  between 
them  and  one  of  the  walls,  in  which  to  walk.  Two 
windows  shed  a  feeble  light;  one  facing  the  street, 
being  partially  boarded  up  to  avoid  public  curiosity. 
The  other  overlooked  a  massive  stone  wall,  over  the 
top  of  which  could  be  seen  a  few  palms  and  banana- 
trees.  But,  thank  God !  we  were  separated  from  those 
hideous  criminals — we  were  all  of  a  kind,  at  least. 

The  morning  passed  dismally  away.  Our  conver- 
sation was  not  interesting  to  ourselves,  much  less 
would  it  have  been  to  any  outsider,  but  we  became 
acquainted  with  each  other. 

Arnold,  as  I  have  said  before,  was  a  Canadian,  and 
proved  to  be  a  person  of  considerable  education,  hav- 
ing been  a  clergyman  in  one  of  our  large  Western  cities. 
Being  obliged  to  leave  the  ministry  for  reasons  best 
known  to  himself,  he  came  to  Honolulu,  where  he 
taught  school  for  some  time,  until  an  opportunity 
presented  itself  to  work  his  passage  across  to  Manila 
on  the  transport  Arizona.  From  having  preached 
the  gospel  Arnold  now  tried  his  abilities  in  other  chan- 
nels, and  just  before  his  capture  had  been  manager  of 
a  Manila  restaurant.  He  freely  admitted  that  an  over- 
indulgence in  strong  drink  was  the  cause  of  his  last 
misfortune,  namely,  his  capture,  having  boarded  the 
Malolos  train  while  under  the  influence  of  too  much 
Scotch  rye. 

The  two  soldiers  were  William  Bruce  and  Elmer 
Honeyman,  both  young  men,  privates  of  the  First  Ne- 
vada Cavalry,  then  stationed  at  Cavite.    On  the  morn- 

35 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ing  of  January  31st  they  had  ventured  to  pay  the 
Insurgents  a  visit  at  San  Roque,  within  a  short  dis- 
tance of  Cavite,  They  were  at  once  arrested  and  sent 
on  to  Malolos,  walking  the  entire  distance  from  San 
Roque  to  Caloocan,  several  times  passing  close  around 
the  outskirts  of  Manila,  within  sight  of  the  American 
outposts.  From  Caloocan  to  Malolos  they  had  trav- 
elled by  train. 

The  excitement  of  the  evening  before  was  now 
somewhat  subdued,  although  several  times  during  the 
day  noisy  groups  of  shouting  natives  passed  by.  Num- 
bers of  officers  and  well-dressed  civilians  came  to  visit 
us,  and,  although  no  personal  violence  was  offered, 
on  several  occasions  their  patriotic  feelings  could 
hardly  be  restrained.  Several  told  us  that  as  spies  we 
had  been  condemned  to  be  shot,  the  execution  being 
set  for  the  following  day.  Especially  Huber  and  me, 
who  had  been  taken  with  a  camera  in  our  possession, 
they  had  every  right  to  punish  as  spies,  they  said.  I 
have  since  come  to  the  conclusion  that  this  was  noth- 
ing more  than  an  attempt  at  humor  on  their  part,  but 
at  that  time  the  joke  did  not  reveal  its  point,  as  far  as 
we  were  concerned,  at  least. 

A  plate  of  cooked  rice  was  brought  to  us  twice  dur- 
ing the  day  by  the  woman  Miguela,  who  had  volun- 
teered to  act  as  our  cook,  but  the  gray  mass  of  doughy 
stuff  suggested  even  to  us,  hungry  as  we  were,  the 
taste  of  newspaper  pap;   it  had  about  that  color,  too. 

Only  under  the  greatest  necessity  were  we  allowed 
out  in  the  yard,  and  then  for  but  a  few  minutes  at  a 
time.  Excepting  when  visitors  entered,  the  door  was 
constantly  kept  barred. 

That  evening  we  received  a  visit  from  a  young  ser- 

36 


Close  Confinement 

geant,  who,  unlike  the  majority,  seemed  inclined  to 
be  friendly.  He  had  been  to  the  front  and  volunteered 
some  information.  The  lighting,  he  said,  had  been 
precipitated  by  a  blunder,  but  a  conference  was  that 
day  being  held  to  rectify  the  same.  It  was  quite  pos- 
sible that  all  would  yet  be  adjusted  to  the  satisfaction 
of  both  parties.  This  story  we  could  not  bring  our- 
selves to  believe,  although  I  am  convinced  that  the 
attack  on  the  night  of  the  4th  was  not  premeditated; 
had  it  been,  the  troops  would  not  have  been  in  Malo- 
los  so  late  on  Saturday  night  as  they  were.  In  other 
towns,  too,  as  I  have  learned  since,  garrisons  were 
called  out  at  midnight  and  hurried  down  to  Caloocan 
by  special  trains  after  the  fighting  had  commenced. 

As  we  had  no  means  by  which  to  illuminate  our 
cell  after  dark,  it  was,  of  course,  necessary  to  retire 
with  the  sun.  This,  however,  was  a  simple  ceremony. 
Not  being  able  to  walk  about  we  were  obliged  to  sit 
on  the  bed  during  daytime,  our  backs  resting  agamst 
the  wall,  so  that  on  going  to  bed  we  had  but  to  re- 
move our  shoes  and  then  slide  forward  until  our  heads 
touched  that  part  of  the  cot  where  we  a  moment  be- 
fore had  been  sitting.  The  shoes  would  then  do  service 
as  pillows.  So  quickly  and  easily  was  all  this  done 
that  it  did  not  interfere  the  least  with  the  conversation. 
I  have  read  somewhere  of  a  man  who  considered  it  a 
great  hardship  when  once  obliged  to  dispense  with  a 
night-cap  for  one  night,  but  we  found  other  incon- 
veniences of  more  consequence  than  that. 

But  in  spite  of  all  our  miseries  and  hardships  we 
appreciated  the  absence  of  native  companions,  we  were 
at  least  by  ourselves,  and  again  I  repeat  it,  we  con- 
sidered that  an  advantage  that  more  than  ofifset  all 

37 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

our  other  troubles.  How  great  our  subsequent  dis- 
appointment, however! 

Let  me  now  pass  over  the  next  two  or  three  days, 
uneventful  ones,  but  fraught  with  suspense  and  anxiety 
to  us. 

If  my  memory  does  not  deceive  me,  it  was  Wednes- 
day evening,  and  we  had  just  retired  in  the  manner 
described,  and  lay  there  conversing  in  the  Egyptian 
darkness,  when  suddenly  we  became  aware  of  a  low 
murmur,  which  seemed  to  come  from  some  distance 
down  the  street.  Gradually  the  sound  increased,  un- 
til it  swelled  into  the  loud  uproar  of  an  angry  mob 
outside  in  front  of  the  prison.  Once  more  we  heard 
the  cry  of  "  Muerte!  Muerte!  "  and  its  equivalent  in 
Tagalog:  "  Pati-e,  Pati-e!  "  At  last  the  mob  seemed 
to  have  gained  entrance,  and  with  a  resounding  crash 
our  door  was  flung  open.  Instinctively  we  all  sprang 
to  our  feet,  believing  that  a  lynching  bee  was  about 
to  take  place,  in  which  we  were  to  play  a  much  too 
prominent  part.  The  mob  burst  into  the  cell,  but  in 
a  few  moments  we  discovered  that  this  time  they  had 
found  another  object  for  their  wrath — we  were  not 
even  noticed. 

At  the  head  of  the  crowd,  which  seemed  to  be  com- 
posed principally  of  soldiers,  an  officer  appeared,  drag- 
ging after  him  a  trembling  wretch,  a  native,  whose 
arms  were  tightly  pinioned  behind  him.  Pulling  him 
in  with  a  violent  jerk,  the  officer  turned  and  threw 
the  poor  fellow  against  the  wall,  and  as  many  as  could 
crowd  in  stood  in  a  semicircle  around  him.  Several 
of  the  soldiers  bore  flaming  torches  in  their  hands,  and 
by  their  light  we  were  enabled  to  see  all.  So  tightly 
were  the  prisoner's  arms  bound  that  blood  oozed  from 

38 


Close  Confinement 

the  cuts  above  his  elbows  where  the  cords  sank  deeply 
into  the  flesh.  The  officer  now  drew  from  its  sheath, 
depending  from  his  waist,  a  small  dagger,  and  with 
one  cut  severed  the  bonds,  thus  freeing  the  prisoner's 
arms.  The  light  of  the  torches  now  fell  full  upon  him, 
revealing  a  ghastly  sight.  Blood  was  oozing  out  of 
two  gashes  on  his  head,  and  some  of  it  had  dried  in 
his  long  hair  and  matted  it  together.  His  clothes 
were  torn  into  shreds,  and  his  body  covered  from 
head  to  foot  with  mud  and  clotted  blood.  The  fleshy 
part  of  his  leg  had  been  pierced  by  a  bullet,  showing 
an  ugly,  ragged  wound,  now  black  and  swollen. 

The  prisoner  was  evidently  not  a  Tagalog,  as  the 
officer  spoke  to  him  in  Spanish,  and  by  our  combined 
knowledge  of  that  language  we  were  able  to  catch  the 
meaning  of  his  words,  and  those  the  poor  wretch  made 
in  reply. 

It  seems  that  he  was  accused  of  being  a  "  secreto," 
which  means  either  traitor  or  spy,  or  both  together, 
and  now  for  the  first  time  they  demanded  an  explana- 
tion, whereupon  he  began  in  a  low-monotonous  tone 
to  give  an  account  of  the  events  leading  up  to  his 
decidedly  unpleasant  situation. 

The  man  had  been  a  servant  to  an  American  ofificer 
in  Manila,  but  had  neglected  either  to  obtain  the  per- 
mission of  the  Insurgent  authorities  or  else  to  pay  his 
license  fee.  For  this  his  name  was  on  the  Black  List. 
At  the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  however,  he  left  his 
employer  and  thought  of  nothing  more  than  to  join 
his  wife  and  three  children  in  Meycauayan.  Endeavor- 
ing to  pass  through  the  American  lines  he  succeeded, 
but  was  wounded  in  the  leg  by  a  Springfield  bullet, 
and  almost  captured  by  the  Americans.    He  at  length 

39 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

safely  reached  the  Insurgent  lines  before  they  could 
further  disable  him.  But  it  was  from  the  frying-pan 
into  the  fire!  Having  no  pass,  he  was  arrested  as  a 
"  secreto."  His  march  to  Malolos  had  been  a  cruel 
one,  to  judge  by  his  appearance. 

As  he  stood  relating  his  doleful  story,  he  would  at 
times  falter  from  fear  or  weakness,  and  then  the  ser- 
geant of  the  guard  would  poke  him  with  the  muzzle 
of  his  Remington,  while  ogling  at  his  superior  for  a 
glance  of  approval.  As  the  prisoner  concluded  his 
narrative,  to  the  truth  of  which  he  swore  by  God, 
Holy  Mary,  and  the  blessed  saints,  the  officer  quietly 
replaced  the  dagger  in  its  sheath,  and  no  sooner  had 
the  last  words  left  those  bruised  and  swollen  lips 
when  he  drew  back  and  planted  his  clinched  fist  be- 
tween the  eyes  of  the  unfortunate.  Once,  twice,  and 
three  times  did  he  repeat  it,  until  the  victim  lay  sense- 
less on  the  floor,  and  then,  with  a  last  kick,  he  turned 
to  leave  the  cell,  apparently  convinced  that  the  blows 
just  struck  were  for  "  la  independencia  "  of  his  glorious 
land.  As  each  soldier  left  the  room,  he  had  first  to 
give  that  mass  of  almost  unrecognizable  humanity  on 
the  floor  a  kick,  as  had  done  the  noble  captain.  For- 
tunately they  were  all  barefooted,  otherwise  the  re- 
sults might  have  been  more  serious. 

Being  once  more  left  in  darkness,  Arnold  struck  a 
match,  and  by  its  light  we  lifted  the  poor  wretch  upon 
the  other  cot,  where  he  lay  groaning  throughout  the 
night. 

Once,  believing  that  he  was  dying,  we  called  the 
guards,  but  the  only  answer  they  gave  was  a  few  blows 
with  the  butt  of  a  gun  against  the  door,  and  a  com- 
mand to  be  silent. 

40 


Close  Confinement 

By  morning  our  new  fellow-sufferer  had  fully  re- 
covered his  senses,  but  so  repulsive  was  he  to  look 
at  that  none  of  us  really  cared  to  approach  him.  That 
day  he  received  no  rations,  so  we  gave  him  some  of 
ours,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  expressed  his  grati- 
tude was  touching.  Later  on  during  the  day  we 
managed  to  get  him  some  water,  and  with  the  rem- 
nant of  an  old  shirt  persuaded  him  first  to  clean  and 
then  to  bandage  his  wounded  leg,  which  he  did  under 
Ruber's  supervision. 

We  seemed,  somehow,  no  longer  to  be  a  novelty 
compared  to  the  poor  "  secreto."  Numbers  of  visitors 
came  to  see  him  during  the  day,  nor  would  they  leave 
without  maltreating  him  in  some  way,  either  striking 
or  kicking  him. 

One  fellow,  who  the  week  before  had  been  confined 
in  the  other  cell  with  Huber  and  me  for  murdering 
a  woman,  seemed  now  to  have  regained  his  liberty 
by  joining  the  army.  He  came  in,  appearing  especially 
indignant,  giving  expression  to  his  patriotism  by  seiz- 
ing the  prisoner's  head  between  his  hands  and  bit- 
ing it! 

This  addition  to  our  number  was  far  from  agree- 
able to  us,  and  we  did  not  like  it,  but  the  Military  Gov- 
ernor upstairs,  Sefior  Francisco  Donato,  did  not  con- 
sult our  wishes,  doing  exactly  as  he  saw  fit. 

That  same  afternoon  there  was  a  sudden  flap  of 
our  door,  and  two  more  unfortunates  appeared  bound 
together  arm  to  arm.  They  also  had  received  rough 
usage,  and  were  likewise  accused  of  wishing  to  sell 
their  country  to  the  invading  Americans.  One  of 
these  two,  whom  we  at  once  nicknamed  Squint-Eye 
on  account  of  a  defect  in  one  of  his  visual  organs, 

41 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

admitted  having  been  in  the  employ  of  General  Otis 
as  coachman,  but  had  omitted  procuring  a  license. 
It  seems  that  the  Government  at  Malolos  had  once 
issued  a  proclamation,  declaring  it  treasonable  for  any 
Filipino  to  enter  the  service  of  an  American  unless 
provided  with  a  special  permit,  for  which  a  percentage 
of  his  wages  was  charged.  Many  neglected  to  do 
this,  and  were  at  once  reported  by  Insurgent  spies 
and  placed  on  the  Black  List  as  "  Americanistas! " 
Had  the  addition  to  our  numbers  ceased  with  these 
three,  we  might  have  become  reconciled  to  their  pres- 
ence, as  they  were  quiet  and  well-behaved,  but  our 
brotherhood  of  misery  continued  to  increase.  At  all 
hours  of  the  day  or  night  more  suspected  "  secretos  " 
were  thrown  in,  some  violently  like  a  shovelful  of  coal 
into  a  furnace,  others  dragged  in  by  the  Governor 
himself.  All  were  more  or  less  bruised  upon  arrival, 
but  the  worst  generally  came  afterward.  Every  day 
we  were  forced  to  witness  sights  that  would  have  hor- 
rified the  most  callous,  for  violence  and  brutality  pre- 
vailed. Never  had  I  seen  brute-nature  in  man  more 
prominently  displayed! 

One  case  that  occurred  then  still  remains  vividly  in 
my  recollection  of  those  ghastly  scenes;  that  of  a  boy 
of  less  than  fourteen  years  of  age.  He  also  had  been 
a  servant  with  some  "  Americano,"  and  crossed  over 
into  the  Insurgent  lines  to  join  his  family.  Arrested 
as  a  "  secreto  "  the  boy  denied  the  charge,  but,  in 
order  to  force  a  confession  from  him,  the  soldiers 
bound  him  to  a  tree  and  then  burnt  his  face,  neck, 
and  chest  with  the  glowing  ends  of  their  cigarettes. 
When  thrown  in  with  us,  the  poor  lad,  although  by 
nature  of  a  pleasing  appearance,  was  fairly  hideous 

42 


Close  Confinement 

with  his  disfigured  face  and  neck,  having  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  small-pox  patient.  When  he  told  us  his 
story  we  could  hardly  believe  it,  but  the  pride  with 
which  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  boasted  of  his  com- 
plicity in  the  outrage  removed  our  last  doubts.  We 
named  the  lad  Cigarettes,  on  account  of  his  experi- 
ence, and  by  this  appellation  he  soon  became  known 
throughout  the  prison  by  soldiers  and  prisoners  alike, 
it  being  considered  very  appropriate. 

This  brings  to  my  memory  another  similar  case, 
which,  did  I  not  have  witnesses  to  prove  the  facts,  I 
should  hesitate  to  mention.  It  was  that  of  another 
boy  even  younger  than  Cigarettes,  a  mere  child  of 
twelve,  who  one  day  was  added  to  our  number.  In 
spite  of  his  extreme  youth  he  received  no  more  con- 
sideration than  the  others;  in  fact,  some  of  the  sol- 
diers seemed  to  take  especial  delight  in  twisting  the 
puny  limbs  until  the  victim  shrieked  from  agony. 

As  we  were  told,  an  uncle  or  cousin  of  this  young 
boy  had  committed  some  offence  against  the  Govern- 
ment and  then  disappeared.  The  child  was  supposed 
to  know  of  his  whereabouts,  but,  being  unable  to  force 
a  confession  from  him,  the  Governor  had  him  added 
to  our  number.  Every  day  a  diminutive  specimen  of 
humanity  was  permitted  to  enter  the  cell,  bearing  a 
bamboo  basket  on  its  head  of  such  large  dimensions 
that,  unless  viewed  at  some  distance,  the  basket  itself 
appeared  endowed  with  power  of  locomotion.  This 
was  a  younger  brother  to  the  youthful  prisoner,  who 
came  twice  a  day  with  a  meal  of  rice,  fish,  bananas,  etc., 
in  the  aforementioned  basket,  and  in  leaving  took  his 
brother's  rations  in  exchange,  the  pound  of  black  rice 
and  five  out  of  the  seven  cents.    The  remaining  two 

43 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

cents  were  spent  on  fruit,  cigarettes,  or  betel-nuts. 
Occasionally  the  mother,  a  sad-faced  woman  of  the 
working  class,  came  also,  and,  while  her  son  sat  eat- 
ing the  scanty  meal,  crouched  beside  him,  talking  to 
him  and  weeping  by  turns,  until  forced  to  leave  by 
the  guards. 

One  day  our  little  friend  disappeared,  and,  naturally, 
we  thought  he  had  been  liberated.  To  fully  under- 
stand what  follows,  it  is  necessary  that  I  explain  a 
small  circumstance  connected  with  our  daily  prison 
life. 

The  floor  above  us  was  composed  of  three  large 
rooms.  The  first,  facing  the  street,  was  the  Military 
Governor's  office,  wherein  Donato  and  his  staff  sat 
daily  plotting  mischief.  Next  came  an  ante-room, 
and  in  the  rear  a  third  apartment  where  half  a  com- 
pany of  soldiers  had  been  quartered  before  the  out- 
break of  hostilities,  but  where  now  the  guards  and 
recruits  slept  at  night.  Here,  out  in  the  rear,  a  guard 
would  conduct  any  one  of  us  when  obliged  to  leave 
the  cell,  passing  up  through  the  ante-room,  and  past 
the  door  to  the  Governor's  office.  At  times,  when 
the  guard  chanced  to  be  not  too  zealous  in  his  duties, 
we  paused  a  moment  at  the  door  to  glance  in  at  the 
officers.  The  ante-room  being  very  dark  prevented 
them  from  seeing  us.  The  office  was  but  scantily 
furnished  with  a  table  and  a  few  chairs,  but  most  con- 
spicuous of  all  was  a  massive  wooden  plank  which 
generally  stood  on  end  on  one  side  of  the  room, 
through  which  had  been  cut  a  row  of  holes  about  three 
inches  in  diameter.  This  piece  of  timber  was  split 
through  the  middle,  the  split  cutting  straight  through 
the  centre  of  each  hole.     At  each  end  an  iron  rod 

44 


Close  Confinement 

pierced  the  two  half-planks  crosswise,  sliding  through 
the  upper  half  loosely  so  that  it  could  be  lifted. 

Now  this  piece  of  furniture  was  an  instrument  of 
torture  similar  to  the  stocks  of  colonial  days,  in  which 
the  feet  of  the  victim  were  placed  by  lifting  the  upper 
half  and  then  lowering  it  over  his  ankles,  the  man 
then  being  in  such  a  position  that  he  could  hardly 
touch  the  plank,  much  less  lift  it.  This  instrument  is 
as  familiar  throughout  the  Philippines  as  a  stove  in  our 
country,  each  convent  being  furnished  with  two  or 
three,  although  what  particular  use  the  fathers  had  for 
them  might  puzzle  some  people.  Probably  they  were 
utilized  to  "  convert  the  heathens." 

Such  an  instrument  stood  in  Donato's  office,  and 
many  times  was  it  brought  into  use.  But  to  resume 
the  story  of  our  boy  prisoner. 

Some  days  after  his  disappearance  it  happened  that 
one  of  our  number,  about  to  make  the  trip  up  to  the 
soldiers'  quarters,  was  surprised  by  seeing  the  little 
brother  preceding  him  upstairs,  the  large  basket  care- 
fully balanced  on  his  head.  Wondering  what  brought 
the  child  here  now,  he  followed,  seeing  him  enter  the 
Governor's  office.  The  guard  was  not  paying  the 
strictest  attention,  and,  looking  in  through  the  door- 
way, he  saw  the  little  one  placing  the  basket  beside 
his  elder  brother,  the  boy  of  a  dozen  years,  who  sat 
on  the  floor,  one  of  his  feet  in  the  stocks.  So  small 
were  his  limbs  that  they  had  wrapped  cloth  around 
the  one  in  the  hole,  so  that  it  might  not  slip  through. 
Up  to  the  third  day  we  saw  him  there,  but  how  long 
he  remained  after  that,  probably  only  Sefior  Donato 
can  tell. 

To  review  every  one  of  the  fiendish  acts  of  cruelty 

45 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

inflicted  on  their  kind  by  the  patriotic  Donate  and 
his  crew  would  require  a  volume,  but  the  reading 
would  hardly  be  pleasant. 

In  less  than  a  week  after  the  arrival  of  Betel-Nuts, 
as  we  called  No.  i  on  account  of  his  red  teeth,  we 
numbered  twenty-five  in  that  miserable  hole,  which 
at  first  we  had  considered  too  small  for  five. 

From  all  classes  of  society  they  came:  laborers, 
mechanics,  clerks,  merchants,  doctors,  and  even  ex- 
military  officers;  but  here  all  were  equals,  the  lawyer 
ate  from  the  same  dish  with  the  former  servant,  and  the 
doctor  slept  beside  the  fisherman.  All  were  accused  of 
the  one  crime,  being  in  sympathy  if  not  in  actual  em- 
ploy of  our  Government — all  political  offenders.  At 
one  time  a  woman  was  with  us  for  two  days,  but  aS 
she  was  about  to  give  birth  to  a  child,  they  had  at 
least  consideration  enough  for  the  situation  to  re- 
move her. 

I  often  wondered  in  what  way  the  poor  thing  could 
have  offended  those  fiends;  she  appeared  too  insipid 
even  to  have  a  political  opinion,  much  less  to  express 
one,  but  perhaps  her  grandfather  or  some  distant  rela- 
tive had  committed  some  offence,  and,  escaping,  had 
left  the  poor  woman  as  heir  to  his  punishment. 


46 


CHAPTER   IV 
DESPERATE  CHANCES 

Prison  filth — Plans  of  escape — The  suggestion  from  the  broken 
bar — A  glimpse  of  liberty — Plans  that  proved  futile — Feb- 
ruary 13th — Curious  behavior  of  Arnold — A  visit  from  Do- 
nato — Betrayed — A  new  sentinel. 

IT  does  not  require  a  vivid  imagination  to  fancy- 
how  twenty-five  men  existed  in  a  room  ten  by 
twenty  feet  in  dimensions.  Although  we  never 
suffered  for  want  of  drinking-water,  for  washing  pur- 
poses it  was  never  thought  of.  In  a  short  time  we 
became  covered  with  vermin  and  disgusting  sores. 
After  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  night- 
watch  relieved  those  who  had  been  on  duty  all  day, 
nobody  was  allowed  to  leave  the  cell  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, so  our  floor  was  soon  reeking  with  filth 
and  dampness.  Refuse  was  thrown  out  of  the  window, 
where  it  fell  in  a  large  putrid  heap  between  the  build- 
ing and  a  stone  wall,  breeding  maggots  and  filling  the 
cell  with  a  sickening  stench,  so  strong  that  it  awoke 
us  at  nights.  From  the  want  of  fresh  air  and  exer- 
cise the  least  physical  exertion  caused  such  dizziness 
that,  upon  rising  and  standing  upon  the  floor,  we 
staggered  about  like  drunken  men. 

Then  it  was  that  we  first  began  to  discuss  plans  of 
escape.  However  desperate  the  chances,  we  felt  we 
ought  to  take  them,  for,  as  we  then  thought,  it  was 
either  that  or  death. 

47, 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Thus  we  argued  among  ourselves.  Should  the 
Americans  begin  to  advance,  the  Insurgent  army,  de- 
feated and  demoralized,  would  retreat  upon  and 
through  Malolos,  a  mob  of  disorganized  and  ungov- 
ernable rabble.  Houses  would  be  looted  and  burned, 
anarchy  would  reign,  and  in  their  frenzy,  what  mercy 
could  we  expect  from  such  a  horde?  This  seemed  to 
us  most  logical. 

Then,  again,  supposing  the  Americans  should  not 
advance,  but  attempt  to  argue  the  Filipinos  into 
submission,  which  might  take  some  time — how  long 
could  we  expect  to  live  under  existing  circumstances? 
In  whichever  way  we  looked  at  our  situation,  there 
seemed  but  one  ray  of  hope,  but  one  manner  in  which 
to  avoid  certain  death,  and  that  lay  in  our  escape. 
This,  however,  seemed  a  desperate  undertaking,  for 
not  alone  was  the  prison  well  guarded,  but  twenty 
miles  lay  between  us  and  the  American  lines.  I  sin- 
cerely believe  that  the  fearful  state  of  suspense  which 
continually  assailed  us,  awake  or  asleep,  would  eventu- 
ally have  affected  our  reason,  had  we  not  one  day  made 
a  discovery  which  sent  a  faint  glimmer  of  hope  into 
the  prevailing  gloom. 

One  day  one  of  us  (I  believe  it  was  Bruce)  crawled 
up  into  the  window  overlooking  the  stone  wall,  en- 
deavoring to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  world  outside 
and  beyond  the  aforementioned  wall,  when  he  noticed 
something  peculiar  about  one  of  the  bars.  At  this 
window,  these  bars  were  made  of  a  native  mahogany 
called  narra,  almost  as  tough  as  iron.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  window  was  a  horizontal  crossbar,  through 
which  the  vertical  bars  passed,  their  both  ends  buried 
in  the  masonry  above  and  below.     At  first  the  win- 

48 


Desperate  Chances 

dow  had  been  of  double  size,  but  in  the  numerous 
fights  between  Spaniards  and  Insurgents  a  garrison 
of  the  former  had  at  some  time  turned  the  building 
into  a  small  fortress  and  built  a  breastwork  of  stone 
and  mortar  inside  the  bars,  thus  filling  in  the  lower 
half  of  the  original  window.  The  top  of  this  breast- 
work was  on  a  level  with  the  crossbar.  One  of  the 
perpendicular  bars  had  been  broken  oflf,  its  stump 
barely  extending  below  and  outside  the  top  of  the 
breastwork.  This  we  had  all  seen  but  paid  no  par- 
ticular attention  to,  as  the  space  made  by  the  missing 
half  bar  was  blocked  by  the  stones  and  mortar.  But 
Bruce's  attention  on  the  above-mentioned  occasion 
was  attracted  by  a  wedge,  slipped  in  between  the  up- 
right and  the  hole  in  the  crossbar,  through  which  it 
passed. 

On  touching  this  he  found  it  loose,  so  that  by  re- 
moving the  wedge,  the  broken  bar  could  be  slid  down 
to  the  sill  outside  of  the  later  built  up  masonry,  trans- 
ferring the  open  space  thus  from  below  the  crossbar 
to  above  it,  this  opening  being  large  enough  for  the 
passage  of  a  man's  body. 

One  by  one  we  all  examined  this  defect  in  the  win- 
dow, and  our  joy  became  almost  uncontrollable  as  we 
now  saw  the  manner  in  which  it  could  serve  us. 
From  the  window  to  the  top  of  the  adjacent  wall  was 
but  a  jump,  and  then — liberty!  After  this  we  did 
nothing  but  plot  and  plan;  we  had  at  least  found 
something  upon  which  to  concentrate  our  thoughts, 
aside  from  the  morbid  fear  of  a  terrible  death,  and  this, 
I  firmly  believe,  saved  us  from  madness.  Once  outside 
the  limits  of  the  town,  we  reasoned,  our  chances  of 
reaching  the  American  lines  might  be  considered  fairly 

49 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

bright.  Bruce  and  Honeyman,  on  coming  from  the 
railroad  station,  had  observed  the  surroundings,  while 
Huber  and  I  were  well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of 
the  country  where  the  two  armies  now  lay  facing  each 
other.  Our  combined  knowledge  served  as  a  founda- 
tion upon  which  we  built  a  plan  of  action  that  seemed 
to  us  promising  of  success. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  the  top  of  which  was 
on  a  level  with  and  not  six  feet  distant  from  the  win- 
dow, was  a  large  space  of  ground  used  by  the  In- 
surgent ofificers  as  a  gymnasium,  as  we  surmised  by 
the  bars,  rings,  swings,  and  trapeze  that  had  been 
erected  there.  This  was  bounded  on  the  other  side 
by  a  dense  banana  orchard,  and  beyond  and  above  that 
we  could  plainly  see  the  tops  of  a  bamboo  jungle,  so 
we  judged  that  the  prison  was  situated  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town. 

From  the  window  over  the  wall  and  into  the  banana 
grove  would  be  but  two  leaps,  thence  into  the  jungle. 
At  about  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  on  the  first  stormy 
night  we  would  quietly  extract  the  wedge,  slip  down 
the  bar,  and  steal  out  while  our  native  companions 
slept,  and  if  they  by  chance  should  awaken  and  see 
the  hole  they  also  might  take  advantage  of  it,  if  so 
inclined.  Once  into  the  jungle  we  would  circle  about 
the  town  until  we  struck  the  railroad  track,  and, 
guided  by  it,  travel  along  at  a  brisk  pace  until  we 
reached  the  large  river  that  flowed  by  Bocave.  This 
distance  was  about  seventeen  kilometres,  or  thirteen 
miles,  and,  if  nothing  unforeseen  should  happen,  we 
would  make  it  by  three  in  the  morning.  Then  we 
would  either  have  to  steal  a  boat  and  paddle  down- 
stream, or  follow  the  banks  until  we  reached  the  line 

50 


Desperate  Chances 

of  outposts,  through  which  we  must  pass  by  swim- 
ming, either  into  our  own  Hues  or  out  in  the  bay,  where 
the  Monadnock  lay  always  anchored,  close  to  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  As  we  all  claimed  to  be  good 
swimmers  this  plan  was  not  deemed  a  desperate  one, 
and  was  unanimously  adopted.  Apparently  nothing 
now  remained  but  to  wait  for  a  favorable  night,  and 
this  we  expected  by  the  approaching  dark  of  the 
moon,  generally  accompanied  by  stormy  weather  in 
the  tropics. 

Monday,  February  13th,  dawned  gloomily;  it  being 
rainy  and  stormy  with  every  indication  of  a  tempestu- 
ous night,  and  as  this  continued  until  the  afternoon, 
we  quietly  made  preparations  to  take  due  advantage 
of  the  opportunity.  Daily  we  were  becoming  physi- 
cally weaker,  and  felt  that  by  too  long  delay  we  might 
find  ourselves  unequal  to  the  hardships  that  such  an 
undertaking  would  naturally  incur.  Our  impatience 
was  great! 

Arnold,  who  had  had  charge  of  our  mess  funds,  re- 
ceiving our  daily  rations  from  the  sergeant  who  dis- 
tributed them,  turned  over  every  cent,  and  through 
Miguela  it  was  invested  in  jerked  beef  and  in  bread, 
which  it  was  our  intention  to  take  with  us  in  case  we 
should  find  it  impossible  to  accomplish  all  in  one 
night  and  find  it  necessary  to  conceal  ourselves  in  the 
jungle  for  a  day  until  the  following  night  made  it 
possible  to  continue  the  flight. 

As  evening  approached  and  nothing  remained  to 
be  done  but  to  await  the  hour  of  eleven  o'clock,  we 
all  became  decidedly  silent.  Almost  without  speak- 
ing we  each  of  us  had  taken  four  slips  of  paper,  writ- 
ten the  names  and  addresses  of  our  different  families 

51 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

on  them,  and  distributed  them  to  one  another.  Some 
might  be  more  fortunate  than  others.  Then  we  lay 
back  on  the  cot,  not  to  converse  or  sleep,  but  to 
speculate  on  the  possible  outcome  of  this  game  of 
chance  we  were  about  to  play,  the  stakes  of  which 
were  liberty,  and,  as  we  then  thought,  life  itself. 

For  over  an  hour  we  lay  there,  mentally  preparing 
ourselves  for  what  we  knew  would  be  a  severe  test  of 
our  courage  and  endurance,  but  for  my  part,  al- 
though I  will  admit  that  my  fears  of  the  consequences 
of  a  possible  miscarriage  of  our  plans  gave  me  con- 
siderable uneasiness,  I  awaited  the  hour  of  action 
with  feverish  eagerness,  anxious  to  have  it  over  with, 
either  for  good  or  bad. 

It  was  almost  eight  o'clock  when  Arnold  arose  from 
the  cot,  and,  remarking  that  he  felt  a  trifle  unwell, 
knocked  at  the  door  and  called  to  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  begging  to  be  permitted  to  leave  the  cell  for 
a  few  moments.  This  was  nothing  unusual;  we  all 
had  done  this  daily,  especially  at  this  hour,  just  before 
the  door  was  bolted  for  the  night.  But  on  this  occa- 
sion, by  some  oversight  of  the  guard,  the  door  was 
not  entirely  closed  again  after  Arnold's  exit,  but  stood 
ajar.  A  moment  later,  seeing  this,  and  either  being 
or  imagining  myself  thirsty,  I  arose,  slipped  out  un- 
seen by  the  guard,  into  the  yard.  Having  satisfied 
my  thirst  at  a  large  jar  which  always  stood  there  filled 
with  water,  I  started  to  return.  In  passing  the  stair- 
case I  cast  a  casual  glance  up  in  that  direction,  when 
to  my  surprise  I  saw  Arnold  on  the  upper  landing 
in  deep  conversation  with  Donato.  The  governor  was 
certainly  no  friend  of  his,  and,  naturally,  the  meeting 
seemed  strange.     The  expression  of  the  Canadian's 

52 


Desperate  Chances 

face  and  his  gestures  filled  me  with  a  vague  suspicion. 
Returning  to  the  cell  I  immediately  told  my  compan- 
ions what  I  had  seen.  We  were  not  long  to  remain 
in  doubt. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  and  still  no  return  of 
Arnold.  Twenty  minutes,  still  absent.  Never  before 
had  any  of  us  been  able  to  leave  the  cell  for  such  a 
length  of  time. 

Suddenly  the  door  was  thrown  wide  open,  and  pre- 
ceded by  the  sergeant  of  the  guard,  who  bore  a  torch, 
Donato  entered.  Without  even  glancing  at  us  he 
strode  over  to  the  window,  and  by  the  light  of  the 
torch  examined  it,  shaking  and  feeling  bars  and 
masonry.  Apparently  he  discovered  nothing,  so,  turn- 
ing, he  left  the  cell,  casting  a  piercing  glance  at  us  as 
he  passed,  that  seemed  fraught  with  meaning.  It  was 
a  warning,  and  we  understood.  Some  minutes  later 
Arnold  came  in,  with  a  sickly  smile  and  a  lame  attempt 
at  gayety,  accompanied  by  an  armed  guard,  who  held 
a  light  while  the  former  gathered  up  his  few  belong- 
ings. He  had  just  seen  the  Secretary  of  War,  Baldo- 
mero  Aguinaldo,  he  said,  and  on  account  of  his  nation- 
ality, or  innocence,  as  he  called  it,  was  to  be  sent 
through  the  lines  into  Manila  the  next  day.  Then  he 
commenced  to  tell  us  how  strenuous  would  be  the 
efforts  he  would  make  in  our  behalf  with  the  American 
military  authorities,  but  our  silence  put  a  damper  on 
his  discourse.  Hastily  picking  up  his  few  rags,  he  bid 
us  good-by,  but  again  silence  greeted  his  words,  so  he 
left  the  cell,  and  the  door  closed  behind  him.  Before 
long  we  heard  the  measured  tramp  of  a  new  sentinel 
outside  the  window. 


53 


CHAPTER  V 
JAIL  LIFE 

Arnold's  cowardice — The  new  Governor — The  prison  bill  of  fare 
— Native  custom  of  eating — The  gymnasium — Antonio  Luna 
— Capitan  Emilio — Capture  of  Manila! — Extra! — Phantom 
prisoners— O'Brien's  arrival. 

HAVING  exposed  our  plans  for  escape,  we 
naturally  expected  to  see  Arnold  rewarded, 
as  well  as  ourselves  punished,  but  neither  of 
these  results  occurred.  Arnold  was  only  separated 
from  us,  as  he  afterward  confessed,  at  his  own  request, 
fearing  bodily  harm  from  the  rest  of  us,  and  confined 
among  the  convicts  where  Huber  and  I  had  spent  the 
first  week  of  our  imprisonment. 

The  window  was  again  examined  the  next  morning, 
but  as  they  did  not  climb  up  on  the  sill  as  we  had 
done,  but  satisfied  themselves  with  standing  on  the 
floor  and  simply  shaking  the  bars,  the  secret  wedge 
remained  undiscovered,  and  this  probably  led  Donato 
to  believe  that  Arnold's  denouement  had  been  but  a 
self-conceived  trick  to  gain  sympathy  and  better  treat- 
ment, and  really  as  such  he  seemed  to  treat  the  whole 
affair,  but,  nevertheless,  a  sentry  was  so  stationed  that 
the  gymnasium  could  constantly  be  kept  under  sur- 
veillance. At  any  rate,  Arnold  gained  nothing  by  his 
treachery;  on  the  contrary,  his  situation  became  worse, 
alone  and  among  those  hideous  convicts.     Much  as 

54 


Jail  Life 

we  disliked  the  presence  of  our  native  cell-mates,  it 
was  from  no  racial  or  personal  dislike,  for  the  majority 
seemed  honest,  and  were  probably  even  innocent  of 
the  political  offences  of  which  they  were  accused;  in 
fact,  the  relations  between  us  and  our  present  Filipino 
companions  were  ever  of  the  most  friendly  and  even 
brotherly  sort.  Some  few  that  had  families  and  re- 
ceived donations  of  food  far  beyond  the  means  of  the 
rest  of  us,  were  ever  willing  to  divide  not  only  with 
their  own  countrymen,  but  also  with  the  "  Ameri- 
canos." I  remember,  one  day,  before  Arnold  left  us, 
a  little  incident  that  took  place  which  illustrates  his 
cowardice  and  a  native's  generous  behavior. 

Arnold  had  been  knocking  at  the  door  for  some 
time,  on  this  particular  occasion,  for  permission  to 
leave  the  cell,  but  as  no  attention  was  paid  to  him  by 
the  guards,  he  became  impatient  and  commenced  to 
kick  at  the  door.  This  angered  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  who  at  once  opened  the  door  so  violently  that 
Arnold,  thoroughly  frightened,  drew  back.  Seeing  a 
native  prisoner  before  him,  the  sergeant  of  the  guard, 
supposing  him  to  have  been  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
turbance, at  once  commenced  to  beat  him  with  his 
bayonet.  The  native  received  every  blow  in  silence, 
looking  reproachfully  at  the  Canadian,  who  stood 
trembling  in  one  corner,  but  who  would  not  say  a 
word  to  take  the  blame  upon  himself,  nor  did  the  na- 
tive ever  say  a  word  either.  This  incident  had  lowered 
Arnold  in  our  estimation  considerably,  so  when  he 
afterward  betrayed  us,  the  shock  was  not  so  unexpected 
as  many  might  surmise.  The  sudden  change  he  now 
experienced  must,  however,  have  caused  him  some 
mental  suffering,  for,  unprincipled  as  he  was,  Arnold 

55 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

had  a  sensitive  nature.  From  a  crack  in  our  door  we 
frequently  saw  him  in  the  yard,  where  he  now  had  full 
liberty  to  walk  about.  He  grew  haggard,  and  when 
at  times  we  saw  him  pacing  up  and  down  in  the  prison 
inclosure,  speaking  aloud  to  himself,  gesticulating  with 
his  hands  and  even  with  his  arms,  glaring  wildly  about 
him,  we  thought  his  reason  had  given  way  under  the 
mental  suffering  he  endured.  But  if  any  of  us  felt  any 
pity  for  him,  he  kept  it  to  himself. 

However,  Arnold  at  length  found  some  relief.  One 
day  he  came  laughing  and  staggering  into  the  yard, 
an  object  of  amusement  to  the  native  prisoners.  They 
had  given  him  vino,  a  strong  alcoholic  drink  made 
from  the  nipa  plant,  three  small  glasses  of  which  are 
enough  to  deprive  any  person  not  used  to  it  of  his 
senses. 

But,  as  the  old  proverb  says,  "  the  blackest  cloud 
rolls  by,"  and  soon  a  great  change  came  to  our  relief. 
The  reign  of  Donato  the  Terrible  one  day  came  to 
an  end;  he  was  relieved  by  a  new  Governor,  and  de- 
parted to  tyrannize  and  spread  terror  over  some  other 
district.  Even  the  staff  and  soldiers  went  with  him, 
and  glad  we  were  when  they  all  went.  The  new  Gov- 
ernor soon  made  his  presence  felt  in  a  beneficent  way. 
He  came  personally  around  on  a  tour  of  inspection  and 
seemed  highly  indignant  at  the  manner  in  which  we 
lived.  We  were  allowed  to  clean  the  cell  thoroughly 
out,  and  the  native  prisoners  were  made  to  do  the  same 
on  the  entire  premises.  The  putrefying  heap  outside 
the  window  was  removed  and  Hme  spread  there,  and 
the  door  of  our  cell  was  allowed  to  stand  open  dur- 
ing daytime,  permitting  the  air  to  circulate  more 
freely,  while  by  knocking  at  any  hour  of  the  night 

56 


Jail  Life 

any  one  of  us  could  leave  the  cell.  Drains  were  made 
in  the  yard,  and  soon  all  the  mire  had  been  transformed 
into  solid  ground,  upon  which  we  were  allowed  to 
walk  several  hours  daily.  The  floor  of  our  cell,  which 
until  then  had  been  a  pool  of  water  and  filth,  was  also 
dried  up,  and  disinfectants  strewn  into  every  corner. 
At  the  end  of  a  few  days  Donato  would  scarcely  have 
recognized  his  former  domain  had  he  returned. 

About  this  time  Miguela  and  her  husband  were  lib- 
erated, and  we  were  allowed  to  do  our  own  cooking. 
I  volunteered  to  act  as  chef  the  first  week,  and  at  once 
took  charge  of  the  daily  rations.  My  duties,  however, 
were  not  of  an  arduous  sort,  for  our  meals  were  simple 
and  easily  prepared.  At  first  we  found  some  difficulty 
in  procuring  anything  in  the  market  not  positively 
distasteful  to  us,  but  one  day  Miguela  had  bought  us 
some  comottes,  and,  as  the  patent-medicine  advertise- 
ments say,  "  since  then  we  had  tried  no  other."  Co- 
mottes are  a  species  of  sweet  potatoes  so  similar  to  our 
American  kind  that  they  need  no  special  description. 
We  liked  them  so  well  not  only  on  account  of  their 
home-like  taste,  but  because  they  also  recommended 
themselves  to  us  by  their  cheapness.  For  one  cent  we 
could  buy  four,  and  three  cents  purchased  enough  to 
last  us  all  for  a  day.  Rice,  boiled  in  Chinese  fashion, 
comottes  and  sugar,  with  an  occasional  cent's-worth 
of  bananas,  at  length  came  to  be  our  principal  diet, 
and  if  we  only  had  had  enough  it  would  not  have 
been  so  bad. 

The  native  prisoners  also  lived  chiefly  on  rice,  but 
always  had  some  side-dish,  which,  no  matter  of  what 
composed,  was  always  called  "  vianda,"  or  "  ulam,"  in 
Tagalog.     Sometimes  it  was  shrimps  or  small  crabs, 

57 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

at  times  a  species  of  catfish  boiled  with  tamarind  beans, 
but  their  favorite  relish  was  "  bogone."  I  boldly 
swallowed  a  spoonful  of  this  mess  one  day,  and  sur- 
vived, which  is  proof  of  an  excellent  constitution. 
"Bogone"  is  made  in  this  manner:  a  quantity  of 
small  shrimps,  hardly  bigger  than  the  ordinary  spawn, 
are  placed  in  an  earthen  jar,  where  they  are  mixed  with 
salt,  vinegar,  and  areca-nut,  and  allowed  to  stand  a 
week.  The  mixture  is  then  ready  for  use.  Some- 
times small  fish  are  substituted  for  shrimps,  but  the 
result  is  the  same.  With  a  small  dish  of  this  on  one 
side  of  him,  a  pot  of  rice  on  the  other,  and  two  bananas 
within  easy  reach,  Mr.  Filipino  is  as  happy  as  the  pro- 
verbial pig  in  clover.  Squatting  on  his  heels  in  true 
Oriental  style,  he  reaches  into  the  rice  pot,  takes  a 
handful,  squeezes  it  into  a  ball  and,  dipping  it  into  the 
"  bogone,"  conveys  the  whole  to  his  under  lip,  which 
in  an  astonishing  manner  projects  itself  to  receive  it. 

This  description  relates,  of  course,  only  to  the  la- 
boring man,  or  "  taui "  as  the  Tagalogs  call  him,  the 
Filipino  "  man  with  the  hoe,"  he  who  tills  the  soil, 
pays  his  taxes,  and  asks  no  questions.  The  higher  class 
of  Filipino  is  as  much  accustomed  to  knives  and  forks 
as  we  are,  but  never  have  I  met  one  so  refined  but 
what,  if  occasion  demanded  it,  he  could  use  his  hands 
with  a  dexterity  that  sufficiently  proved  he  was  no 
stranger  to  the  performance,  I  refer  to  people  promi- 
nent in  Manila  society.  The  women  are,  on  the  whole, 
more  reluctant  to  drop  this  custom  than  the  men,  and, 
excepting  the  most  refined  and  best  educated  fami- 
lies, do  not  appear  at  table  if  guests  are  present,  unless 
the  latter  are  on  the  most  familiar  footing  with  the 
members  of  the  family;  intimate  acquaintances,  whom 

58 


Jail  Life 

they  know,  are  so  used  to  this  peculiar  manner  of  eat- 
ing as  not  to  take  ofifence  at  it. 

The  lowest  class  of  natives,  "  tauis,"  as  the  Filipinos 
themselves  call  them,  live  in  the  most  primitive  bam- 
boo huts,  and  eat  their  meals  in  the  manner  already 
described,  squatting  on  the  floor.  Rice,  ulam,  and 
bogone,  with  a  few  bananas  and  an  occasional  chicken, 
form  their  daily  diet.  Three  pesos  a  month,  equal  to 
one  dollar  and  a  half  American  money,  suffices  as  the 
cost  of  living.  Passing  this  class  we  come  to  the  most 
representative  and  the  most  numerous  in  all  countries 
— the  great  middle  class.  In  this  may  be  counted  small 
merchants,  planters,  clerks,  tradesmen,  mechanics, 
and  minor  government  officials.  The  men  now  begin 
to  afifect  European  clothing,  as  far  as  the  climate  per- 
mits at  least,  and  speak  sufficient  Spanish  for  every- 
day use,  the  women  rarely  understanding  or  speaking 
more  than  their  provincial  dialect.  Some  live  in  bam- 
boo huts  of  larger  dimensions  and  more  complete  than 
those  of  the  "  tauis,"  and  others  in  more  favorable 
circumstances  have  houses  of  wood  with  nipa  roofs. 
A  tile  roof  is  already  a  sign  of  a  certain  financial 
standing. 

A  couple  of  cases  of  illustrations  personally  had  by 
the  writer,  long  after  his  imprisonment,  may  prove  of 
some  interest  to  the  reader. 

I  was  on  one  occasion  visiting  a  native  friend  of 
the  middle  class,  a  prosperous  tobacco  planter  in  a 
small  way.  Their  dwelling  was  of  bamboo,  but  with 
a  plank  flooring,  Spanish  beds,  and  modern  furniture, 
that  is,  considered  modern  there.  His  wife,  a  quiet, 
meek,  insipid  woman,  could  only  speak  the  local  dia- 
lect, but  the  children  could  all  read  and  write  Spanish. 

59 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

He  himself. spoke  it  fairly  well,  had  heard  of  Germany, 
France,  and  England,  etc., -and  even  had  a  fair  idea  of 
their  population,  products,  manufactures,  inventions, 
and  so  forth.  He  and  his  family  were  fair  specimens 
of  the  great  middle  class  of  the  Philippines. 

Being  asked  to  remain  for  dinner,  I  accepted  the  in- 
vitation. The  woman  set  a  table  in  the  room,  with 
tablecloth,  napkin,  knife,  fork,  spoon,  cup,  and  plate, 
all  in  European  style.  My  host  requested  me  to  seat 
myself,  which  I  did,  but,  seeing  only  plate,  knife,  and 
fork  for  one,  I  thought  I  had  done  so  a  little  too  soon, 
and  waited  for  my  host  and  family  to  join  me.  At 
length  he  approached  and  said,  "  Sefior,  why  do  you 
not  begin?  " 

"  I  am  waiting  for  you!  "  I  answered. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  will  eat  with  my  wife  and  the 
children." 

I  soon  became  used  to  this  custom,  however,  for, 
as  I  subsequently  learned,  the  knife  and  fork  in  my 
hands  were  all  the  house  possessed,  bought  especially 
for  such  a  contingency.  As  we  became  more  intimate, 
and  I  often  partook  of  his  hospitality,  this  formality 
wore  ofif;  he  no  longer  called  me  "  Sefior,"  but  Al- 
berto; he,  his  wife,  and  I  eating  at  the  same  table, 
they  with  their  hands,  although  in  a  much  cleaner 
manner  than  the  "  tauis,"  having  finger-bowls  on  the 
table,  while  I  plied  their  only  knife  and  fork. 

On  another  occasion  I  was  invited  to  dine  in  Manila 
by  a  friend  belonging  to  the  upper  class,  one  whose 
name  appeared  prominently  as  a  member  of  Aguinal-. 
do's  former  cabinet.  Circumstances  had  made  us  in- 
timate friends,  so  long  after  my  release  we  met 
again  in  Manila.    There  was  no  ceremony  between  us, 

60 


Jail  Life 

he  called  me  Alberto  then  as  he  had  done  when  he 
knew  me  in  different  circumstances,  with  all  my  clothes 
on  my  back  and  considerably  ragged  at  that.  His 
wife  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  table,  handled  knife 
and  fork  with  as  much  grace  as  any  European,  and 
never  spoke  to  husband  or  children  but  in  Spanish. 
They  were  in  all  respects  equal  to  a  better  class  Span- 
ish family.  Not  a  drop  of  Caucasian  blood  flowed 
through  their  veins;  they  were  pure-blooded  FiHpinos 
from  their  remote  ancestors.  Yet,  this  same  gentle- 
man and  I,  while  travelling  at  one  time,  had  found 
ourselves  obliged  to  spend  the  night  in  the  bamboo 
hut  of  a  "  taui,"  where  knives  and  forks  were  unknown, 
and  the  dexterousness  with  which  he  made  use  of  his 
fingers  had  not  come  to  him  spontaneously. 

But,  really,  I  am  digressing  from  my  narrative,  and 
that,  too,  on  such  commonplace  objects  as  knives  and 
forks ! 

As  I  said  before,  "  comottes  "  formed  our  principal 
article  of  diet  besides  rice,  consequently  our  meals 
were  easily  prepared,  our  bill  of  fare  easily  remem- 
bered, but  as  cook  and  caterer  another  difficulty  now 
presented  itself  to  me,  which  at  first  sight  seemed 
likely  to  cause  our  financial  ruin.  Never  before  had 
we  appreciated  how  honest  poor  little  Miguela  had 
been  in  the  administration  of  our  funds.  We  were 
now  obliged  to  intrust  the  purchasing  of  our  comottes 
and  bananas  to  the  guards.  Generally  I  gave  the 
price  of  the  desired  articles  to  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  who  at  once  sent  one  of  his  men  to  the  market 
to  buy  them,  but  the  manner  in  which  those  men 
would  "  desert "  was  really  wonderful.  If  intrusted 
with  more  than  two  cents  they  could  surely  be  counted 

6i 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

on  to  desert  their  cause  and  disappear.  At  least,  so 
the  sergeant  of  the  guard  said.  The  idea  once  oc- 
curred to  us  to  save  up  twenty  cents  by  a  week  of 
self-denial,  and  then  give  each  guard  three  cents, 
there  being  six  or  seven  of  them,  and  then  send  them 
off  to  the'  market.  As  they  would  naturally  desert,  we 
could  have  walked  out  of  the  prison  unhindered.  But 
this  plan  had  one  great  drawback.  All  these  deserters 
had  twin  brothers  who  took  their  place  next  day. 
Sometimes  we  made  an  awkward  mistake  and  ac- 
cused them  of  stealing  our  two  cents,  but  they  at  once 
swore  by  all  the  saints  that  they  were  innocent,  and 
could  not  be  held  responsible  for  the  crimes  of  their 
"  hermanos!  "  In  this  way  we  even  discovered  cases 
of  triplets,  but  our  curiosity  was  not  sufficiently 
aroused  to  investigate  this  phenomenal  plurality  of 
Filipino  family  members  to  any  further  extent.  There 
may  even  have  been  cases  of  quadruplets,  for  all  we 
knew,  but  we  could  no  longer  afiford  to  encourage 
such  desertions,  it  was  really  too  expensive  for  us,  so 
at  length  we  found  a  poor  inoffensive  murderer,  who 
was  allowed  to  go  to  the  market  every  morning  to 
make  the  purchases  for  the  native  prisoners,  and  as 
he  proved  himself  honest,  and  moreover  never  de- 
serted, he  became  our  regular  caterer. 

About  this  time  the  gymnasium  outside  our  window 
was  formally  opened  to  the  public  as  a  pleasure  resort, 
and  we  also  derived  some  amusement  from  it. 

Besides  the  appliances  for  physical  exercise  which  I 
have  already  mentioned  as  having  been  established  on 
the  ground,  two  small  bamboo  pavilions  had  been 
added,  one  so  close  to  our  window  that,  by  standing 
on  the  sill,  we  could  see  anybody  inside  and  have 

62 


Jail  Life 

spoken  to  them  so  as  to  be  heard  in  a  natural  tone  of 
voice.  Each  one  of  these  pavilions,  and,  in  fact,  the 
grounds  in  general,  were  illuminated  by  electric  lights, 
and  every  evening  the  scene  was  one  of  life  and  gayety. 
We  took  turns  crouching  up  in  our  window  to  watch 
this  scene,  where  people  could  laugh,  sing,  and  dance, 
apparently  unaware  that  brothers,  fathers,  sons,  and 
friends  were  falling  in  a  hopeless  struggle  by  hundreds, 
yes  even  thousands,  less  than  twenty  miles  away. 

In  one  of  these  bamboo  retreats  stood  a  number  of 
small  tables,  and  here  the  higher  Government  officials 
would  gather  of  evenings,  to  forget  their  cares  in  beer, 
checkers,  or  chess,  smoking  and  listening  to  the  or- 
chestra that  played  exquisite  music  in  the  other  pavil- 
ion. Our  native  fellow-prisoners  often  pointed  out  to 
us  prominent  leaders  of  the  insurrection,  such  as  Luna, 
Buencamino,  the  two  Pilars  (Pio  and  Gregorio),  and 
the  Chinese  renegade  General  Paua.  It  seems  that  at 
this  time,  when  actual  hostilities  were  not  going  on, 
these  generals  often  came  up  to  Malolos  to  consult 
with  Aguinaldo.  Antonio  Luna,  who  one  evening 
was  pointed  out  to  us,  a  dark,  handsome  man  in  the 
prime  of  life,  evidently  a  full-blooded  Filipino,  was  at 
that  time  commander-in-chief  of  the  army.  This  man, 
had"  he  been  a  Tagalog  instead  of  an  Ilocano,  would 
probably  have  been  President  in  place  of  Aguinaldo, 
but  even  as  it  was,  his  followers  were  many.  Before 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities  he  had  been  editor  of  the 
Filipino  Government's  official  organ,  La  Independen- 
cia,  but  had  now  been  made  commander-in-chief  to 
retain  the  sympathy  of  his  people,  the  Ilocanos,  for  the 
Insurgent  cause,  who  were  otherwise  not  inclined  to 
favor  the  native  government,  believing  as  many  of 

63 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

them  did  that  the  Tagalogs  would  hold  the  reins  of 
government  in  their  hands  and  rule  the  country  with 
the  same  tyranny  Spain  had  done. 

Antonio  Luna  was  a  man  of  superior  education, 
having  graduated  from  the  Manila  School  of  Phar- 
macy, as  well  as  from  the  university.  After  leaving  the 
college  he  opened  a  chemical  laboratory  in  Guiapo, 
Manila,  which  he  attended  during  the  day,  and  in  the 
evening  he  taught  fencing  in  his  "  Sala  de  Armas." 
Being  a  friend  and  sympathizer  of  Rizal,  whose  con- 
nection with  and  influence  on  the  Insurgent  move- 
ment are  now  more  or  less  known,  he  naturally  ad- 
hered to  his  socialistic  and  even  revolutionary  ideas. 
He  also  was  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  famous  Katipu- 
nan  *  society,  that  branch  of  Freemasonry  founded  by 
the  Filipinos  to  protect  themselves  from  the  constant 
persecutions  of  the  friars. 

There  are  (or  were)  of  the  Lunas  four  brothers, 
Antonio,  Jose,  Joaquin,  and  Juan.  Jose  and  Joaquin, 
besides  being  educated  and  refined  men,  and  occupy- 
ing prominent  stations  in  Filipino  society,  are  com- 
paratively unknown  to  the  foreign  reader,  but  Juan 

*  A  Tagalog  word  signifying  brotherhood.  The  true  origin  of  this 
society  is  enveloped  in  mist,  impenetrable  to  all  but  a  few  of  the  leaders, 
and  they,  of  course,  do  not  speak.  There  is,  however,  no  doubt  that  it  is 
an  outgrowth  of  Freemasonry,  a  distinct  branch,  the  result  of  the  peculiar 
circumstances  existing  in  the  country  at  the  time  of  its  organization. 

To  defend  themselves  from  the  persecutions  of  the  monasterial  frater- 
nities, the  Filipinos  sought  protection  in  union,  and  thus  was  the  secret 
brotherhood  of  the  Katipunan  formed.  Its  object  was  to  check  the  per- 
secutions of  the  friars  by  intimidating  them,  pursuing  methods  similar 
to  those  of  the  vigilance  committees  of  former  days  in  the  towns  of  our 
Western  States.  Many  friars  were  secretly  assassinated  by  the  agents 
of  the  brotherhood,  and  in  return  the  Spanish  clergy  and  Government 
exerted  all  their  joint  power  to  crush  this  terrible  enemy,  but  with  small 
success.     Hundreds  of  natives  were  executed  as  suspects,  but  this  only 

64 


Jail  Life 

Luna  is  a  prominent  artist  in  Europe,  many  of  his 
paintings  being  of  world-wide  repute.  It  was  he  that 
shot  and  killed  his  wife,  and  was  acquitted  by  the 
Madrid  courts.  This  incident  has  frequently  been 
attributed  to  Antonio,  the  General,  and  I  have  even 
seen  accounts  in  some  of  our  magazines,  in  which  this 
was  said  to  be  the  cause  of  his  deadly  hatred  for  the 
white  race,  whereas  he  was  ever  a  friend  of  Western 
civilization  and  education.  Had  his  policy  of  meeting 
the  Americans  in  one  decisive  pitched  battle  been 
adhered  to,  the  war  might  now  have  been  over  with, 
but  from  the  beginning  Aguinaldo's  idea  was  to  worry 
and  not  to  fight  the  United  States  forces.  We  had 
time  and  again  longed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Hon- 
orable President  himself,  "  Capitan  Emilio,"  as  the 
natives  affectionately  call  him.  He  was  at  one  time 
the  municipal  president  of  a  town  in  Cavite  under  the 
Spanish  Government,  and  thus  gained  the  title  of 
"  Capitan,"  according  to  Spanish  custom,  and  this  still 
clung  to  him. 

One  evening  Cigarettes,  who  was  sitting  in  the 
window,  called  out  to  us,  "  Capitan  Emilio !  Capi- 
tan Emilio !  "  In  a  moment  as  many  of  us  as  could, 
crowded  up  there  and  peered  through  the  bars  into 

served  to  strengthen  this  secret  organization,  until  in  1896  this  smoolder- 
ing  struggle  burst  out  into  open  hostility. 

Many  are  the  versions  as  to  its  origin.  Some  claim  that  Jose  Rizal 
was  its  founder,  others  Pilar,  and  still  others  believe  it  to  have  been 
Antonio  Luna,  but  even  the  majority  of  the  members  themselves  in  all 
probability  are  ignorant  of  the  truth,  and  we  outsiders  certainly  are.  It 
is  said  that  at  one  time  its  roll  of  membership  contained  as  many  as  fifty 
thousand  signatures,  but  this  also  can  be  no  more  than  supposition. 
Terrible  oaths  of  secrecy  were  demanded  of  new  members,  who  signed 
their  names  on  the  list  with  their  own  blood,  drawn  from  an  incision  on 
the  arm,  and  by  the  scar  of  which  one  member  might  know  another. 

65 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  bamboo  pavilion.  There  he  sat  at  one  of  the  tables 
— we  knew  him  by  his  pictures — small  in  stature  and 
very  dark.  His  dress  was  black,  all  except  a  colored 
jockey  cap.  In  one  hand  he  held  an  empty  glass,  in 
the  other  a  bottle.  Gradually  he  poured  the  sparkling 
beer  into  the  glass,  then  drained  it.  Again  he  re- 
peated the  operation.  It  was  interesting.  We  could 
almost  hear  the  sizz  of  the  foam.  We  forgot  the 
President,  our  interest  centred  in  the  frothing  hquid 
which  we  had  not  seen  for  so  long  a  time.  Anyway, 
I  think  it  showed  poor  tact  on  the  great  man's  part  in 
holding  that  sparkling  beverage  up  under  the  very 
noses  of  four  miserable,  half-starved  wretches,  who 
had  been  obliged  to  assuage  their  thirst  with  half-pu- 
trid water  the  past  month.  This  was  the  first  and  last 
time  our  eyes  ever  rested  on  the  dusky  features  of 
Don  Emilio  Aguinaldo  y  Famy. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  in  contemplating  the 
merry  crowds  in  the  gymnasium  our  eyes  did  not 
occasionally  drop  to  the  wedge  in  the  crossbar  and 
dreams  of  escape  enter  our  minds;  indeed,  we  often 
discussed  the  advisability  of  another  attempt,  but  the 
new  guard  overlooking  that  window,  our  better  treat- 
ment, and  a  startling  piece  of  news  that  arrived  about 
this  time  deterred  us  for  a  while.  The  news  of  which 
I  speak,  and  which  for  a  time  demoralized  us,  reached 
us  on  February  23d. 

On  the  evening  of  that  date,  shortly  after  sunset,  we 
were  as  usual  stretched  on  our  cot,  giving  each  other 
the  benefit  of  reminiscences  of  our  past  lives,  when 
suddenly  the  church  bells  commenced  to  ring  vio- 
lently. Bugles  sounded  all  over  town,  and  people  in 
the  street  ran  to  and  fro,  cheering  and  screaming.    In 

66 


Jail  Life 

the  gymnasium  they  seemed  almost  crazy,  the  orches- 
tra there  playing  "  Aguinaldo's  March  "  amid  loud 
cries  of  "Viva  Aguinaldo!  Viva  Filipinas!  Viva! 
Viva!  "  Meanwhile  we  lay  wondering.  Presently  we 
heard  a  great  uproar  upstairs  in  the  officers'  quarters. 
Chairs  were  overturned  amid  trampling  of  many  feet, 
and  a  rush  downstairs  followed.  A  second  later  our 
door  was  thrown  violently  open,  a  group  of  young 
officers  burst  into  the  cell,  one  carrying  a  lamp,  which 
he  in  his  excitement  came  near  dropping  among  us. 
All  were  shouting  together,  but  out  of  the  jumble 
we  caught  such  phrases  as,  "  Victoria !  Americanos 
muerte!  Filipinos  entre  Manila!  Americanos  no  mas ! 
Muchos  prisoneros!  Perdido  los  Americanos!"  etc. 
Then,  evidently  satisfied  that  their  exclamations  would 
mentally  paralyze  us,  they  retired  as  suddenly  as  they 
had  entered,  and  once  more  we  heard  them  ascending 
the  stairs  amid  cries  of  joy.  The  excitement  in  the 
streets  continued  until  late  into  the  evening. 

That  night  we  had  food  for  reflection  and  discus- 
sion. Had  the  Filipinos  really  gained  a  victory?  We 
could  hardly  believe  it,  but  what  caused  all  this  pub- 
lic enthusiasm?  We  were  able  to  arrive  at  no  con- 
clusions, having  nothing  to  found  them  on,  but  never- 
theless we  felt  dreadfully  depressed,  lest  the  war  might 
yet  drag  on  for  a  long  time.  Of  course,  never  for  a 
moment  had  any  one  of  us  expected  the  Americans 
to  send  out  an  expedition  for  the  rescue  of  five  ob- 
scure prisoners  whose  very  existence  was  not  even  a 
certainty,  but,  as  we  said  to  each  other,  surely  in  a 
whole  month  Otis  could  have  had  all  the  necessary 
reinforcements  to  commence  an  advance. 

While  cooking  breakfast  next  morning  in  the  yard, 

(^7 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

1  picked  up  an  "  extra  "  of  La  Independencia,  copies  of 
which  lay  strewn  about.  In  large  and  glaring  head- 
lines I  read,  in  Spanish: 

VIVA  LA  REPUBLICA  FILIPINA! 

AMERICANS  ARE   DEFEATED! 

OUR   VICTORIOUS   ARMY   ENTERS 
MANILA! 

LONG  LIVE  AGUINALDO!     LONG  LIVE 
THE  ARMY! 

The  circular  then  went  on  to  state  that  the  Ameri- 
can army  had  been  defeated  after  a  terrific  battle  and 
driven  into  the  Walled  City,  where  the  Filipinos  were 
now  besieging  them.  Meanwhile,  the  valorous  Pio 
del  Pilar  had  surrounded  6,000  Americans  at  Caloo- 
can,  and  was  about  to  starve  them  out.  The  Honor- 
able President  had  left  for  the  front  to  superintend 
operations  in  person,  and  decide  upon  what  terms  the 
Americans  were  to  be  spared  from  complete  annihila- 
tion.   Thousands  of  prisoners  had  been  taken! 

This  latter  statement  interested  us  particularly. 
Even  if  but  1,000,  we  longed  to  have  them  brought 
to  Malolos.  We  could  not  but  believe  that  with  1,000 
healthy  American  companions,  times  would  no  longer 
continue  monotonous  to  all  parties  concerned.  But 
those  prisoners  must  certainly  have  died  on  the  road. 
We  never  saw  them,  not  one  of  them.  But  another 
surprise  awaited  us  that  afternoon. 

We  had  now  fallen  into  the  custom  of  the  country 
and  took  our  daily  siesta  between  the  hours  of  i  and 
3  P.M.     It  helped  to  pass  away  time.     It  must  have 

68 


Jail  Life 

been  about  four  o'clock  on  this  particular  afternoon, 
February  24th,  and  the  natives  were  just  about 
awakening.  My  companions  were  still  sleeping. 
Cigarettes,  the  boy,  was  sitting  in  the  window,  as 
usual,  facing  the  street — the  popular  feeling  against 
us  having  by  this  time  been  sufficiently  subdued  to 
permit  the  opening  of  it — and  was  passing  the  time 
away  between  nodding,  dropping  his  head  down  be- 
tween his  knees,  and  then  starting  up  again  to  watch 
the  passers-by  in  the  street. 

Of  a  sudden  the  lad  gave  a  great  shout — "  Ameri- 
canos! Americanos!  "  Some  of  us,  awakened  by  this 
cry,  and  believing  that  he  meant  armed  troops,  rushed 
to  the  window,  causing  wild  confusion.  Above  the 
noise  we  heard  the  tramp  of  marching  soldiers  in  the 
entrance  outside,  suddenly  terminating  by  a  loud 
"Alto!"  When  Cigarettes  told  us  that  he  had  seen 
one  American  prisoner  guarded  by  a  squad  of  Insur- 
gent regulars,  our  excitement  grew  hardly  less,  for 
naturally  we  supposed  that  through  a  new  arrival  the 
truth  of  the  whole  situation  at  the  front  would  be  un- 
folded to  us,  and  at  least  give  us  an  idea  of  how  much 
longer  our  sufferings  were  to  last.  Looking  through 
cracks  and  knot-holes  in  our  door  we  saw  a  man  who 
was  surely  neither  Spaniard  nor  Filipino,  but  before 
we  could  thoroughly  scrutinize  him  he  passed  on  in 
the  direction  of  the  stairs,  giving  us  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  a  light  beard  and  hair. 

Shortly  after  we  gathered  our  pots  and  went  out 
in  the  yard,  ostensibly  to  cook  our  supper,  but  in 
reality  to  catch  another  ghmpse  of,  and  exchange  a 
few  words  with,  the  new  arrival.  For  a  time  we  were 
disappointed,  for  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen;  but  pres- 

69 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ently  a  loud  "  Hello,  boys!  "  caused  us  all  to  look  up 
at  the  second-story  windows.  There  he  was,  leaning 
out  and  calmly  puffing  at  a  cigar,  apparently  very 
much  at  his  ease — a  typical  Anglo-Saxon,  with  blue 
eyes,  blond  mustache  and  beard,  and  a  light  complex- 
ion. At  first  the  guards  attempted  to  draw  him  back 
into  the  room,  but  as  they  did  not  use  any  physical 
force  he  did  not  heed  them  the  least.  In  fact,  his  bear- 
ing was  more  that  of  a  visitor  than  a  prisoner.  As  I 
stood  gazing  at  the  stranger's  face,  his  features  seemed 
to  me  vaguely  familiar.  Where  have  I  seen  him  be- 
fore? I  asked  myself,  but  could  find  no  answer. 

Having  in  vain  attempted  to  converse  with  us,  the 
distance  being  too  great  for  his  words  to  reach,  he 
disappeared  from  the  window,  and  a  moment  later 
walked  into  the  yard.  I  stood  nearest  the  door,  and 
as  we  came  face  to  face  the  recognition  was  mutual. 
He  was  one  of  the  three  Englishmen  that  Huber  and 
I  had  met  in  Meycauayan  on  the  day  of  our  capture, 
the  one  who  had  spoken  to  us. 


70 


CHAPTER  VI 
RELAXATION 

O'Brien's  narrative  —  Captain  Scott  —  Baldomero  Aguinaldo's 
double-dealing — Twenty-seven  days  in  Santa  Isabela — Cap- 
tain Espina — The  names  on  the  wall — The  iron  mask — Ath- 
letics in  the  yard — Moro-moro^The  visit  to  the  market — 
Aguinaldo's  body-guard — Maguey  cloth — "  Los  Chinos  " — 
Monetary  system — The  seiioritas  and  our  bath, 

THE  Englishman  came  forward,  shook  hands 
with  us  all  around,  introducing  himself  as 
John  O'Brien,  a  native  of  London,  England, 
but,  as  he  told  us  afterward,  a  citizen  of  the  world. 
As  I  already  suspected,  he  had  no  news,  having  been 
a  prisoner  as  long  as  any  of  us,  confined  in  a  neigh- 
boring town.  The  most  pressing  questions  being 
answered  on  both  sides,  we  all  sat  down  on  a  woodpile 
in  a  corner  of  the  yard  while  the  rice  was  boiling,  and 
O'Brien  related  the  story  of  his  capture  and  subse- 
quent experience.  I  will  here  let  him  tell  his  own 
adventures : 

"  In  order  to  thoroughly  explain  my  presence  here 
you  must  know  that  I  am  a  miner,  or,  to  be  still  more 
exact,  a  prospector.  Since  leaving  home  as  a  sailor 
while  still  a  boy,  I  have  been  prospecting  in  Australia, 
California,  the  Klondike,  and  last  year  brought  up 
in  New  Guinea.  The  climate  of  that  country  did  not 
agree  with  me,  however,  nor  had  I  any  great  success, 

71 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

so  I  left  there,  and  last  November  came  to  Manila 
with  the  intention  of  exploring  the  mountains  of 
Luzon  for  gold,  which,  I  have  every  reason  to  believe, 
are  just  as  rich  in  the  precious  metal  as  those  of  New 
Guinea. 

"  Upon  arriving  at  Manila  I  immediately  set  out  to 
obtain  as  much  information  as  I  could,  and  I  soon 
found  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  the  country  was  prom- 
ising. My  intention  was  to  go  to  Malolos,  and  as  an 
Englishman  ask  the  Insurgent  authorities  for  a  pass- 
port throughout  the  country.  Having  secured  this  I 
expected  to  continue  on  the  train  to  Dagupan,  where 
I  would  have  hired  a  number  of  native  servants, 
bought  provisions,  pack-horses,  etc.,  and  continued 
my  journey  on  foot  to  the  province  of  Benguet,  about 
three  days'  march  north  of  Dagupan.  I  have  been  told 
by  old  English  residents  that  the  mountains  of  Ben- 
guet, Lepanto,  Bontoc,  and  Abra  are  so  rich  in  gold 
that  the  natives  of  those  parts,  the  Igorrotes,  a  tribe 
of  naked  savages,  pick  the  free  gold  out  of  the  rocks 
and  sell  it  to  the  European  traders  for  half  its  value; 
but  on  account  of  the  aversion  of  the  friars  to  any 
foreign  immigration,  which  the  opening  of  new  gold 
fields  naturally  would  attract,  such  heavy  taxes  were 
levied  on  mining  privileges  that  the  riches  of  the 
mountains  of  Luzon  were  never  developed,  but  left 
to  the  Igorrotes  who  would  wash  out  small  quantities 
in  ox-hide  or  bamboo  baskets.  One  Englishman,  who 
even  now  lives  in  Benguet,  buys  gold  from  the  na- 
tives at  sixteen  pesos  per  ounce,  and  sells  it  at  sixteen 
dollars,  just  doubling  his  money.  But,  considering 
the  quality  and  quantity  of  the  gold  the  Igorrotes  ex- 
tract from  the  rocks  and  soil  in  their  primitive  manner, 

72 


Relaxation 

and  I  have  seen  numerous  specimens,  I  believe  that 
any  money  invested  there  is  a  *  sure  thing.' 

"  On  the  afternoon  of  January  27th  I  left  Manila 
on  the  two  o'clock  train  for  Malolos.  I  found  on  the 
train  with  me  two  other  Englishmen,  bound  on  a 
pleasure  excursion,  Captain  Scott,  of  the  steamship 
Pelican,  and  the  chief  engineer  of  the  same  vessel. 

"  Arriving  at  Polo  we  three  were  arrested  and  taken 
to  Meycauayan.  I  was  the  only  one  that  possessed  a 
consular  certificate,  so  Captain  Scott  suggested  that 
we  all  claim  to  be  of  one  party,  making  the  certificate 
do  service  for  the  three  of  us,  to  which  I  gave  my 
consent.  The  lieutenant  who  examined  us  in  Mey- 
cauayan seemed  satisfied  with  that,  but  told  us  that 
we  would  have  to  return  by  next  train  to  Manila.  It 
was  then  that  you  two  were  brought  in  "  (here  O'Brien 
addressed  Huber  and  myself)  "  and  taken  out  again 
a  few  moments  later.  This  was  done  in  order  to  en- 
able us  to  judge  whether  you  were  Englishmen  or  not, 
as  you  claimed  to  be.  No  sooner  had  you  two  left 
the  room  when  the  lieutenant  asked  us,  *  Inglese  ese?  ' 
As  I  could  not  truthfully  assert  that  you  were,  I  did 
not  express  an  opinion  and  merely  said,  *  No  sabe.' 
The  engineer  did  likewise,  but  Scott,  who  seemed 
thoroughly  frightened,  said,  '  Those  men  are  Ameri- 
canos !  Spias !  Spias !  Mucho  malo ! '  and  to  us : 
'  The  presence  of  these  men  increases  our  danger.  We 
may  be  taken  for  accomplices;  what  can  we  expect 
when  such  people  claim  to  be  Englishmen ! ' 

"  Scott's  words  seemed  to  please  the  lieutenant,  who 
smiled  grimly. 

"  That  same  afternoon  we  were  taken  to  the  sta- 
tion, and  Scott  and  his  companion  returned  to  Manila. 

7Z 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

I  waited  for  the  next  train  for  Malolos,  and,  continu- 
ing my  journey,  arrived  there  after  dusk. 

"  Upon  inquiring  of  an  officer  where  passes  were 
issued,  I  was  shown  to  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of 
War,  where  Seiior  Baldomero  Aguinaldo  himself  re- 
ceived me.  As  he  speaks  excellent  English  we  had 
no  difficulty  in  understanding  one  another,  but  on  ex- 
plaining to  him  my  wishes,  his  brow  darkened  and  he 
answered :  '  I  cannot  guarantee  your  safety  throughout 
the  country.  Popular  feeling  is  so  strong  just  now 
that  no  matter  how  many  passes  I  might  give  you,  you 
would  not  be  safe  from  a  mob.  I  advise  you  to  aban- 
don your  scheme  until  the  country  shall  be  in  a  more 
settled  state,  and  the  present  troubles  between  us 
and  the  American  Government  satisfactorily  adjusted, 
when  we  shall  be  glad  to  invite  foreigners  to  assist  us 
in  developing  the  country.' 

"  That,  of  course,  ended  the  question.  Without  a 
pass  it  was  of  no  use  attempting  to  carry  out  my  idea. 
I  saw  I  would  have  to  wait  some  time. 

"  We  remained  in  conversation  together  a  long 
time  on  other  topics,  the  Secretary  being  well  informed 
on  almost  any  subject,  but  we  drifted  back  to  the  po- 
litical situation  and  the  possibility  of  war.  He  tried 
to  convince  me  that  the  Filipinos  had  good  prospects 
of  winning  in  any  coming  struggle,  but  I  made  the 
mistake  of  expressing  my  honest  opinion,  comparing 
the  Americans  to  the  British  in  Egypt,  giving  a  brief 
description  of  Lord  Kitchener's  victory  over  the  der- 
vishes. A  slight  darkening  of  his  brow  showed  me  my 
mistake,  but  as  he  still  continued  to  converse  pleas- 
antly, I  thought  no  more  of  it. 

"At  about  eight  o'clock  Seilor  Aguinaldo  arose, 

74 


Relaxation 

and,  stepping  out  of  the  room  for  a  few  moments,  re- 
turned with  an  officer.  Turning  to  me  he  said:  *  I 
have  instructed  this  gentleman  to  see  that  you  are  well 
cared  for  until  morning,  when  you  must  return  to 
Manila.  Now,  good-night ! '  We  shook  hands  and 
I  followed  the  lieutenant  downstairs.  There  stood  a 
corporal  and  two  soldiers,  and  turning  to  me  the  lieu- 
tenant said,  '  These  three  men  will  conduct  you  to  a 
secure  place  for  the  night,  and  at  the  same  time  will 
act  as  your  body-guard  and  escort.'  So,  bidding  the 
officer  good-night,  I  went  out  with  the  three  soldiers, 
who  at  once  led  me  down  the  street. 

"  As  we  kept  on  walking  for  some  time  without  en- 
tering any  house,  I  began  to  grow  uneasy,  wondering 
why  they  should  take  me  such  a  distance,  but  when  I 
noticed  that  we  had  left  the  town  and  were  out  on  a 
country  road,  I  became  really  alarmed  and  insisted 
upon  returning.  At  first  they  paid  me  no  heed,  but 
when  I  turned  to  leave  them,  one  raised  the  butt  of  his 
gun  and  brought  it  down  on  my  shoulder  with  such 
force  as  almost  to  stun  me.  Then,  while  two  presented 
their  bayonets  to  my  chest,  the  third  commenced  to 
relieve  me  of  my  hat,  coat,  and  vest,  and  all  my  pockets 
contained.  Next  he  proceeded  to  unbuckle  my  belt, 
but  as  this  contained  forty  English  gold  sovereigns  I 
resisted.  They  then  struck  me  two  or  three  blows  on 
the  head,  and  when  I  fully  recovered  from  the  effects 
my  belt  was  gone. 

"  Forced  to  continue  with  those  I  now  knew  were 
my  guards,  we  walked  on  for  about  an  hour,  when 
we  entered  a  small  village,  the  most  conspicuous  build- 
ing in  which  was  a  large  church  and  convent,  the  rest 
of  the  town  being  composed  of  bamboo  huts,  with 

75 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  exception  of  a  small  house  built  of  boards  and 
thatched  with  nipa,  that  stood  on  the  plaza  opposite 
the  church  and  convent.    Into  this  I  was  taken. 

"Apparently  the  house  contained  but  two  rooms, 
and  in  one  of  these  sat  three  men,  two  officers  and  a 
civilian,  all  writing  at  a  table.  To  one  of  them,  a  cap- 
tain, the  corporal  gave  a  letter,  which  he  opened  and 
read  and  then  glared  ferociously  at  me  as  if  he  had 
just  received  an  order  for  my  execution.  The  three 
soldiers  then  turned  to  leave,  when  I  commenced  to 
complain  of  my  treatment  and  the  robbery  in  broken 
Spanish.  The  captain  told  me  to  keep  quiet,  but  as 
I  still  insisted  he  jumped  to  his  feet  in  a  threatening 
manner,  and,  thumping  his  chest  with  his  hands,  ex- 
claimed in  a  shrill  voice:  '  Me  Capitan  Filipino,  me 
officer.  You  no  speakee  me — sabe?  '  That,  of  course, 
settled  the  question,  so  I  said  no  more. 

"  Later  on,  the  same  night,  I  was  taken  across  the 
plaza  to  the  convent,  where  a  company  of  soldiers  was 
stationed.  Conducting  me  upstairs  they  shoved  me 
into  a  room,  or  rather  closet,  formed  by  partitioning 
a  portion  of  the  balcony  ofif.  You  know  how  wide 
these  convent  balconies  generally  are,  say  about  six 
feet.  Well,  this  was  cut  ofif  by  a  thin  board  wall  about 
five  feet  from  the  end,  forming  an  enclosed  space  of 
five  by  six.  In  this  hole  I  was  confined  for  twenty-five 
days,  subjected  to  daily  insults  and  indignities  not  only 
by  the  soldiers,  but  also  by  officers — at  least  they  wore 
the  stars  of  officers.  Three  times  daily  a  plate  of  dry, 
cooked  rice  without  salt  was  brought  to  me,  and  noth- 
ing more.  This  treatment  and  the  loneliness  of  this 
existence  almost  drove  me  mad. 

"  On  the  night  of  February  4th  I  heard  the  guns 

76 


Relaxation 

pounding  away  to  the  southward,  and  then  my  hopes 
of  a  speedy  release  rose  high,  for  I  believed  that  in  one 
week  the  Americans  would  sweep  up  through  the 
country,  along  the  railroad  track  at  least,  at  ten  miles 
a  day,  as  the  English  frequently  have  done  in  India, 
with  less  men  and  a  more  numerous  enemy.  But,  al- 
though I  occasionally  heard  the  guns  again,  a  few 
hours  at  a  time,  nothing  disturbed  the  quiet  and  peace 
of  Santa  Isabela,  as  the  town  was  called.  My  guards 
were  now  composed  mainly  of  bolo  men,  the  regular 
troops  having  been  hurried  down  to  the  front  after 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities. 

"  Frequently  I  received  visits  from  officers  and  Gov- 
ernment officials,  to  all  of  whom  I  showed  my  consular 
certificate,  which  I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  re- 
tain in  the  pocket  of  my  overalls;  but,  beyond  stating 
that  they  were  sorry  and  shrugging  their  shoulders,  I 
got  no  satisfaction. 

"  Two  days  ago,  however,  I  received  a  visit  from 
Captain  Espina,  a  Spanish  renegade,  in  the  service  of 
the  Insurgents  as  captain  of  engineers.  Upon  show- 
ing him  my  paper  he  at  once  appeared  interested, 
and,  upon  leaving,  promised  to  exert  himself  in  my 
behalf. 

"  That  evening  I  was  removed  to  one  of  the  large 
rooms  of  the  convent,  which  encouraged  me  some- 
what, especially  as  the  guards  treated  me  with  more 
respect. 

"  This  morning  I  was  taken  back  to  Malolos,  up- 
stairs here  to  the  Provincial  Military  Governor,  and 
he  has  just  given  me  a  pass  that  holds  good  about 
the  town  and  vicinity,  but  I  am  not  to  be  allowed  to 
go  through  to  Manila.    I  am  to  sleep  upstairs  here,  eat 

77 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

with  the  guards,  and  can  leave  the  building  at  any 
time  that  I  feel  inclined  to  stroll  about  the  town." 

O'Brien  having  concluded  his  tale  of  woe,  we  con- 
tinued to  converse,  telling  of  our  own  troubles,  our 
attempt  at  escape,  and  Arnold's  perfidy.  He  prom- 
ised to  make  as  careful  a  survey  of  the  surrounding 
country  as  was  possible  under  the  circumstances,  and 
give  us  the  result  in  the  form  of  a  rough  chart  for 
future  reference.  During  his  twenty-seven  days  of 
solitary  confinement  he  had  picked  up  a  few  words 
of  Tagalog  from  his  guards,  and  this  might  enable  him 
to  overhear  little  bits  of  news  as  spoken  between  the 
officers  upstairs,  and  these  he  also  promised  to  com- 
municate to  us. 

Shortly  before  dusk  we  separated,  he  sauntering 
quietly  out  of  the  gate  with  his  hands  in  the  pockets 
of  his  old  blue  overalls,  a  turban  on  his  head  instead 
of  a  hat,  and  a  cigar  between  his  teeth  at  an  elevation 
of  about  forty-five  degrees.  In  the  evening  we  again 
saw  him  in  the  gymnasium,  performing  some  really 
wonderful  feats  on  the  rings  and  bars  before  a  crowd 
of  admiring  Filipinos,  some  of  whom  narrowly  escaped 
broken  necks  and  bruised  themselves  in  vain  endeavors 
to  imitate  him. 

We  did  not  see  O'Brien  again  the  next  day  until 
late  in  the  afternoon,  and  then,  to  our  great  surprise, 
he  was  permitted  to  enter  the  cell  for  a  friendly  chat. 

He  had  that  morning  been  to  see  the  Secretary  of 
War,  Don  Baldomero,  to  complain  of  the  robbery  of 
his  forty  sovereigns,  but  that  gentleman's  only  reply 
was,  "  that  such  was  life,  and  such  the  fortunes  of  war"; 
of  course  accompanied  by  a  French  shoulder  shrug. 
A  small  hand-bag  that  he  had  taken  charge  of  for 

78 


Relaxation 

O'Brien,  containing-  instruments  for  a  rough  assay, 
compass,  etc.,  he  now  denied  ever  having  seen.  They 
had,  however,  given  him  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  was 
written  in  Spanish,  "  This  man,  John  O'Brien,  is  al- 
lowed the  full  liberty  of  the  town,  and  all  persons  are 
hereby  cautioned  to  allow  him  to  pass  unmolested,  as 
he  is  an  Englishman  and  *  No  Americano.'  "  The  last 
two  words  were  heavily  underscored,  and  the  whole 
stamped  with  the  official  seal  of  the  War  Office,  a  sun 
in  a  triangle. 

Being  now,  after  a  fashion,  kept  in  touch  with  the 
outside  world  as  far  as  Malolos  was  concerned,  at  least, 
we  found  our  time  passed  more  rapidly.  Every  day 
O'Brien  came  to  visit  us,  relating  his  little  experiences 
about  town,  until  we  began  to  look  forward  to  his  com- 
ing as  a  welcome  treat.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
the  officers  looked  upon  his  intimacy  with  us  with  dis- 
approving glances,  he  continued  to  come,  regardless 
of  the  annoying  looks  of  these  gentlemen.  His  rations 
were  about  the  same  as  ours,  those  of  the  guards,  dry 
cooked  rice  and  "  vianda,"  brought  to  him  at  each 
meal  in  an  army  mess-plate  by  one  of  the  soldiers. 

I  must  not  omit  here  to  mention  an  incident  that 
occurred  at  this  time,  of  which  we  then  thought  but 
little,  but  which  was  later  the  means  of  making  families, 
relatives,  and  friends  acquainted  with  our  presence  in 
the  world  of  the  living. 

One  afternoon,  while  we  were  outside  in  the  yard, 
several  officers  came  in,  and  in  quite  a  friendly  manner 
attempted  to  converse  with  us.  At  length  they  asked 
us  our  names,  and  upon  hearing  them  they  laughed 
heartily  at  the  strangeness  of  the  sounds  to  their  ears, 
requesting  us  to  spell  them;  whereupon  Huber,  who 

79 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

was  cook  for  the  day,  pulled  out  a  charred  brand  from 
under  the  rice-pot,  therewith  writing  our  names  on 
the  wall,  quite  unconscious  how  they,  long  afterward, 
dim  and  begrimed  by  smoke,  would  be  copied  and 
even  photographed.  One  of  the  Manila  papers  has 
called  them  our  self-written  epitaphs. 

Notwithstanding  the  rather  mild  tendencies  of  the 
new  Governor,  we  still  continued  to  number  from 
twenty  to  twenty-five  persons  in  our  overcrowded  cell, 
but  the  possibility  of  cleaning  it  out  once  in  a  while, 
and  the  privilege  of  spending  a  great  part  of  the  day 
in  the  yard,  helped  to  offset  this  great  disadvantage. 
That  there  was  no  room  for  all  these  men  was  no  ex- 
cuse, for  opposite  on  the  other  side  of  the  passage 
was  a  cell  of  the  same  size  as  ours,  practically  empty. 
This  reminds  me  that  I  have  never  told  of  the  solitary 
occupant  of  this  cell,  the  mysterious  prisoner,  a  Fili- 
pino "  Iron  Mask! " 

We  had  often  noticed  that  the  door  to  this  cell 
was  always  kept  closed  except  at  meal-times,  when  a 
sergeant  entered  with  a  basket  containing  food  of  ex- 
ceptional quality  and  variety.  The  rice  was  white,  the 
meat  and  chicken  of  excellent  aroma,  and  the  fruit  the 
finest  in  the  market ;  everything  being  served  in  white 
china.  Evidently  the  prisoner  confined  there  was  no 
ordinary  person.  Although  we  had  for  a  long  time 
tried  hard  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  inmate,  we  had 
never  been  successful.  One  day,  however,  our  patience 
was  rewarded.  The  sergeant,  on  entering  with  the 
food,  had  evidently  forgotten  something,  and,  leaving 
the  door  open,  ran  upstairs.  A  middle-aged  and 
rather  good-looking  mestizo  came  to  the  threshold 
and  stood  there  for  a  moment,  but  on  seeing  the  ser- 

80 


Relaxation 

geant  descending  the  stairs,  he  disappeared  once  more 
in  the  gloom  of  his  cell.  By  the  fine  white  pajamas 
this  prisoner  wore  we  knew  that  he  must  be  a  person 
of  some  consequence,  and  this,  of  course,  increased  our 
curiosity. 

One  day  I  found  the  door  open  again  and  the  mes- 
tizo stood  there,  his  intelligent  features  pale  and  hag- 
gard from  the  close  confinement.  Quite  unperceived 
I  walked  up  to  him,  saying  in  my  best  Spanish,  "  Good- 
morning,  sefior — fine  day !  "  My  words  caused  him 
to  start  nervously,  and,  turning  to  me,  he  replied  in 
fairly  good  English,  "  I  am  prohibited  to  speak;  "  and 
closing  the  door  himself,  he  retired  into  his  cell. 

What  crime  this  mysterious  prisoner  had  committed 
remained  a  riddle  to  us,  nor  did  anybody  seem  to  know, 
or,  if  they  did,  they  kept  it  to  themselves.  When  he 
had  first  come  there,  or  who  he  was,  was  likewise  un- 
known, but  that  he  occupied  a  whole  cell  by  himself 
when  the  prison  was  so  crowded,  showed  him  to  be  of 
some  importance. 

About  this  time  half  a  company  of  regulars  returned 
from  the  front  and  were  quartered  upstairs.  That  they 
had  come  in  contact  with  the  Americans  was  evident, 
for  they  seemed  to  regard  us  with  some  respect.  It 
has  always  struck  me  as  an  infallible  rule,  those  sol- 
diers who  have  met  and  fought  the  enemy  have  more 
respect  for  their  courage  and  abilities  than  those  who 
have  never  fought  but  with  words. 

And  this  does  not  only  apply  to  Filipinos! 

Every  evening  at  twilight  the  soldiers  gathered  to- 
gether in  the  yard  for  athletic  sports,  such  as  wrestling, 
jumping,  arm  twisting,  etc.,  and  we  also  were  invited 
to  join  them,  which  we  sometimes  did. 

8i 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Often  I  have  heard  Americans  speak  with  contempt 
of  the  small  stature  of  the  Filipinos,  and  we  also  had 
much  the  same  opinion,  telling  each  other  what  we 
could  do  with  half  a  dozen  of  them  if  only  they  were 
not  armed.  On  these  occasions,  however,  we  all  had 
a  chance  to  learn  how  deceiving  appearances  some- 
times are. 

I  still  remember  my  first  wrestling  match  in  the 
Malolos  prison  yard.  It  was  with  a  Filipino  sergeant 
who  hardly  reached  to  my  chin,  and  in  ten  seconds  he 
laid  me  on  my  back.  Time  and  again  we  were  at  it, 
but  I  generally  got  the  worst  of  it,  until  once  I  man- 
aged to  throw  him  by  virtue  of  my  superior  weight, 
and  after  that  I  would  never  wrestle  with  him  again, 
in  order  that  I  might  say  that  I  had  gained  the  last 
bout.  Of  course,  from  poor  and  insufficient  food  and 
the  want  of  physical  exercise,  I  was  at  that  time  in 
poor  condition,  yet  I  have  seen  tall  and  husky  beef- 
eating  Americans  fall  down  under  a  little  black  mass 
of  sinews  only  five  feet  four  inches  in  height,  and  too 
much  self-conceit. 

But  the  accomplishment  of  which  they  were  proud- 
est was  the  moro-moro  play,  a  kind  of  fencing  in  which 
each  of  the  combatants  has  a  bolo  in  the  right  hand  and 
a  dagger  in  the  left.  This  is  a  relic  of  the  times  when 
the  Malay  Filipinos  all  were  Mohammedans,  ruled 
by  rajahs,  before  the  advent  of  the  Spaniards.  As  box- 
ing is  to  the  British  and  Americans,  so  is  moro-moro 
to  the  Tagalog.  Although  he  may  be  lazy  and  dis- 
inclined to  exert  himself,  the  Tagalog  youth  is  willing 
to  stand  for  hours  giving  and  taking  blows  with  sticks 
in  this  exercise,  until  he  is  bathed  in  perspiration. 

Here  in  Malolos  we  saw  a  good  deal  of  this  and 

82 


Relaxation 

even  had  it  taught  us,  but  we  did  not  prove  apt  pupils. 
Two  men  would  stand  facing  each  other,  each  a  long 
stick  in  the  right  hand,  to  represent  the  bolo,  a  short 
one  in  the  left  to  serve  as  dagger  or  "  campit,"  as  the 
Tagalog  calls  it.  Then  commences  a  giving  and  ward- 
ing off  of  blows  bewildering  to  a  stranger,  but  in  which 
there  is  undoubtedly  a  crude  science.  Sometimes  they 
would  stop  all  of  a  sudden  as  if  petrified  in  some  posi- 
tion, while  the  bystanders  would  loudly  argue  which 
of  the  two  had  the  advantage,  and,  when  at  length  de- 
cided, the  fight  was  resumed. 

Considering  the  fact  that  I  had  finally  been  able  to 
throw  my  little  antagonist,  the  sergeant,  he  proved 
himself  rather  friendly  toward  me. 

For  a  long  time  I  had  felt  a  great  desire  to  visit  the 
market  personally,  and  one  day  I  confided  this  to  my 
friend,  the  sergeant.  He  promised  to  assist  me,  and, 
if  possible,  to  obtain  the  necessary  permission  from  the 
Governor.  The  following  morning  he  buckled  on  his 
bayonet,  and,  calling  to  me,  said  that  he  had  succeeded 
in  obtaining  the  Governor's  consent,  and  that  we  could 
"  vamos."    I  was  almost  overcome  with  delight. 

The  bright  glare  of  the  sunlight  outside  almost 
blinded  me,  and  the  pure  air  swelled  my  lungs,  giving 
me  the  sensation  of  a  thirsty  man  who  is  enjoying  a 
cold  draught  from  a  spring.  Passers-by  turned  to  stare 
at  me,  but  the  sergeant  seemed  proud  of  this. 

Presently  we  found  ourselves  in  front  of  a  barber- 
shop. The  people  inside  raised  a  shout  as  I  came  into 
view,  and,  rushing  out,  dragged  me  bodily  in.  The 
shop  was  evidently  a  gathering-place  for  the  young 
aristocracy  of  the  town,  all  well  dressed  in  spotless 
white  suits,  and  some  with  low-crowned  derbys  that 

83 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

made  them  look  ridiculous,  at  least  in  my  estimation. 
Nothing  is  more  unbecoming  to  a  Filipino  than  a 
derby,  yet  it  is  almost  universally  worn  by  both  upper 
and  middle  classes,  and  when  worn  out,  what  is  left 
of  them  is  appropriated  by  the  "  tauis  "  for  their  "  go- 
to-mass  "  suits. 

The  young  men  in  the  barber-shop  were  not  inclined 
to  be  hostile,  but  the  bantering  questions  they  ad- 
dressed to  me  were  anything  but  flattering  to  my  coun- 
trymen, as:  Did  the  Americans  shoot  from  the  hip? 
or,  did  they  saturate  themselves  with  whiskey  before 
going  into  battle,  in  order  to  get  courage?  etc.  It 
was  a  popular  belief  among  the  Filipinos  that  the 
Americans  shot  from  the  hip,  but  we  saw  the  day  when 
they  were  thoroughly  disillusionized  of  this  fallacy. 

To  keep  me  from  going  away  the  barber  offered  to 
shave  me,  as  I  attracted  trade  to  his  shop.  I  accepted 
his  offer  and  was  about  to  sit  down  when,  upon  turn- 
ing, I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a  stranger.  A 
white  man  he  probably  had  been,  or  was  yet,  though 
his  appearance  at  first  glance  belied  it.  I  did  not  like 
his  looks;  he  made  a  decidedly  bad  impression.  His 
clothes  were  ragged,  his  hair  was  long,  and  his  face 
had  not  felt  a  razor  for  some  time.  He  had  all  the 
appearance  of  a  bankrupt  pirate  or  brigand.  The  fel- 
low was  impudent,  too,  and  kept  staring  into  my  face, 
so  I  returned  the  stare.  Still,  his  features  seemed 
familiar — where  had  I  seen  them  before?  Suddenly  a 
smile  of  mutual  recognition  lit  up  our  faces  simultane- 
ously— certainly,  we  were  old  acquaintances!  But  it 
made  me  mad  to  think  that  I  had  been  fooled  by  a 
mirror. 

I  sat  down  in  the  chair,  but  a  moment  later  would 

84 


Relaxation 

gladly  have  paid  the  full  price  of  that  shave  just  to 
escape  the  torments  this  barber  inflicted.  Apparently 
he  had  never  heard  of  lather  being  used  for  shaving, 
nor  perhaps  even  seen  a  shaving-brush.  A  razor  and 
a  wooden  strop  for  honing  were  his  only  tools.  They 
were  probably  enough  to  remove  the  black  down  on 
the  upper  lip  of  a  Filipino,  but  I  swore  he  should  never 
operate  on  me  again. 

Leaving  the  barber's  establishment,  the  sergeant 
and  I  continued  our  walk  down  the  street,  lined  on 
both  sides  by  Chinese  stores,  toward  the  plaza.  We 
passed  through  a  group  of  dirty,  ragged,  sickly,  hun- 
gry, and  dissipated-looking  Spaniards,  who  greeted  us 
with  a  shout,  whether  of  welcome  or  derision  was  hard 
to  say,  but  the  thinness  of  their  faces  gave  them  a 
sarcastic  expression  whenever  they  attempted  a  laugh. 
Laughter  did  not  become  them;  it  seemed  unnatural. 

Presently  we  found  ourselves  in  the  plaza.  A  crowd 
gathered  about  us,  but,  although  the  men  scowled  and 
significantly  touched  the  hilt  of  their  bolos,  none  dared 
to  insult  me.  One,  indeed,  had  drawn  a  knife  from  his 
belt  and  was  advancing  through  the  throng  to  exhibit 
his  valor,  when  the  sergeant  struck  him  with  the  back 
of  his  hand  and  then  kicked  him  to  boot,  causing  the 
bystanders  considerable  amusement.  My  would-be 
intimidator  disappeared  down  a  side  street,  having 
evidently  decided  to  keep  his  great  courage  as  a  war- 
rior bold  a  secret  for  some  time  longer. 

We  now  passed  the  large  convent  which  Aguinaldo 
then  occupied  as  his  residence.  The  entrance  was  well 
guarded  by  his  own  body-guard,  men  selected  for  their 
fine  physical  appearance  and  good  training,  all  having 
been  soldiers  under  the  Spaniards.    Their  uniforms  dif- 

85 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

fered  from  the  rest  of  the  Insurgent  army's  in  that  they 
wore  dark  red  pantaloons,  and,  also  unlike  the  others, 
they  wore  shoes.  The  black  bands  on  their  broad- 
brimmed  straw  hats  bore  no  inscription,  but  one  side 
of  the  brim  was  pinned  to  the  crown  by  a  red  and  blue 
cockade,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  white  triangle, 
with  the  two  letters  G.  P.  in  black,  which  I  suppose 
meant  "  Guardia  del  Presidente."  As  a  whole  they 
would  compare  favorably  with  any  body  of  European 
soldiers  that  have  come  within  the  range  of  my  ob- 
servation. 

Having  crossed  the  plaza,  we  now  passed  down  an- 
other small  street,  and  soon  found  ourselves  in  the 
market.  Large  roofs  of  nipa  had  been  erected  here, 
and  under  them  the  stalls  were  systematically  laid  out 
in  rows,  one  for  dry-goods,  another  for  vegetables,  a 
third  for  fish,  and  so  on,  similar  to  the  markets  in  any 
other  civilized  country,  with  the  exception  that  all  the 
wares  were  spread  on  the  ground,  and  buyers  as  well  as 
sellers  squatted  beside  them  on  their  heels. 

As  my  companion  and  I  appeared  on  the  scene,  all 
business  was,  for  the  time  being,  at  least,  suspended. 
The  majority  were  women,  and  that  a  real  live  "  Ameri- 
cano "  had  dropped  down  among  them  caused  quite 
a  sensation.  The  sergeant  was  as  proud  of  me  as  if 
I  had  been  a  tamed  lion  which  he  was  leading  about 
unchained,  with  nothing  to  protect  himself  from  my 
ferocity  but  his  own  personal  courage. 

Both  young  and  old  crowded  about  me  to  touch 
my  clothes  and  in  other  ways  examine  a  specimen  of 
the  much  dreaded  race,  the  name  of  which  they  used 
to  frighten  the  children  into  good  behavior,  a  sort  of 
Filipino  bogie. 

86 


Relaxation 

Some  were  evidently  disappointed,  saying  that  I 
differed  in  no  essential  part  from  the  "  Castiles." 
They  had  been  under  the  impression  that  the  Ameri- 
cans were  "  mucho  grande,"  something  like  a  palm- 
tree,  and  wore  large  plumes  in  their  hair,  as  the 
illustrations  in  the  friars'  school-books  portrayed 
them. 

A  spirit  of  friendliness  toward  me  seemed  to  prevail 
among  them,  however,  for  one  made  me  a  present  of 
an  ear  of  corn,  another  of  a  cake  of  black  sugar,  and  a 
third  a  small  piece  of  brown  soap.  All  were  thankfully 
received.  One  young  sefiorita  offered  me  a  flower 
with  a  most  bewitching  smile,  and,  although  at  that 
time  I  really  had  no  particular  use  for  flowers,  I  never- 
theless expressed  my  thanks  the  best  I  knew  how. 
This  caused  a  young  gentlemen  with  her,  half  choking 
in  a  high  white  collar,  to  glare  at  me  savagely,  and  say 
to  the  crowd  in  general  that  instead  of  lionizing  the 
Americans  it  would  be  better  to  kill  them  all  off,  or 
words  to  that  effect;  and  when  I  replied  that  there 
were  over  20,000  within  a  day's  travel  to  begin  on, 
the  bystanders  laughed  at  his  confusion.  The  ser- 
geant and  I  spent  over  an  hour  strolling  about  among 
the  stalls,  and  for  the  time  being  I  was  as  happy  as  a 
school-boy  at  a  country  fair. 

The  first  department  we  stopped  to  examine  was 
dry-goods,  and  the  variety  on  hand  surprised  me. 
There  were  piles  of  imported  calicoes,  and  all  sorts  of 
cotton  stuffs,  but  the  sergeant  called  my  attention  to 
one  stall  where  a  woman  sat  weaving  the  native  cloth 
on  a  primitive  sort  of  loom  made  of  native  wood  and 
bamboo.  The  thread  she  used  was  of  cotton,  grown 
in  the  country,  not  on  bushes,  but  on  tall  trees.     I 

87 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

have  myself  seen  these  trees  towering  over  the  roads, 
covered  with  fluffy  white  balls,  some  bursting  out  of 
the  pods. 

The  cloth  this  woman  was  weaving  was  a  very 
coarse  stuff,  finely  striped  blue  and  white,  the  ma- 
terial from  which  the  Insurgent's  uniform  was  made. 
Almost  every  household  of  the  lower  and  middle  classes 
has  these  looms,  as  well  as  old-fashioned,  spinning- 
wheels.  It  is  very  common  to  see  people  walking 
about  the  streets  spinning  by  means  of  tops  hanging 
at  the  end  of  the  twine  or  thread,  and  upon  which  the 
fabric  is  wound  as  finished.  The  top,  suspended  in 
mid-air,  is  set  spinning  by  twisting  the  thread,  the 
operator  holding  it  in  his  right  hand,  while  in  his  left 
he  holds  the  cotton.  Thus  the  Filipino  paterfamilias 
often  takes  an  evening  stroll,  the  baby  sitting  astraddle 
of  his  hip,  his  arm  around  it,  while  with  his  hands  he 
spins,  no  time  being  lost.  Meanwhile  his  wife  may  be 
at  home  spinning  at  the  wheel  or  weaving. 

Another  cloth  that  attracted  my  attention  was  what 
the  natives  commonly  call  maguey  cloth,  made  of  the 
coarse  fibres  of  the  maguey  plant.  This  plant  grows 
in  the  northern  provinces  of  Luzon  in  great  abundance, 
and  is  a  species  of  cactus.  From  my  own  observations 
I  can  see  no  difference  between  it  and  the  maguey  of 
Mexico  and  California,  also  known  as  the  American 
aloe,  the  agave  or  century  plant,  from  the  juice  of 
which  the  Mexicans  get  their  "  pulque  "  by  fermenta- 
tion, and  their  "  mescal "  by  distillation,  and  likewise 
employ  the  fibres  in  the  manufacture  of  a  sort  of  cloth. 
The  word  "  maguey,"  by  which  the  average  Filipino 
knows  the  plant,  seems  to  be  of  Mexican  origin,  so  it 
is  but  natural  to  suppose  that  the  plant  itself  was  in- 

88 


Relaxation 

troduced  by  the  Spaniards  in  early  times  from  their 
American  colonies. 

The  leaves,  all  shooting  up  from  a  common  root, 
having  no  stem,  are  thick,  and  very  thorny  on  their 
edges,  averaging  in  the  full-grown  plant  from  four  to 
six  feet  in  length.  These,  when  considered  of  sufficient 
size,  are  cut  off  close  to  the  root  and  thrown  into  run- 
ning water,  where  they  are  allowed  to  remain  about  a 
week  until  the  pulpy  substance  between  the  fibres  is 
half  rotten.  They  are  then  taken  out  and  beaten  on  a 
rock  with  a  heavy  flat  club  until  nothing  but  the  coarse 
fibres  remain,  which  are  then  hung  up  to  dry.  So 
closely  does  this  maguey  fibre  resemble  that  of  the 
hemp  or  abaca  plant  that  an  inexperienced  eye  could 
not  tell  them  apart,  still  the  plants  themselves  are  en- 
tirely different,  the  latter  resembling  a  banana-tree. 
The  maguey  fibre  is,  however,  much  inferior  in 
strength,  and,  not  being  fit  for  the  manufacture  of 
rope,  is  used  for  the  loom. 

I  have  seen  the  Filipino  housewife  sit  for  hours, 
patiently  pulling  the  long,  coarse  fibres  out,  one  by 
one,  test  their  strength,  knot  them  neatly  together  at 
their  ends,  winding  them  on  a  large  spool  made  of  a 
joint  of  thick  bamboo,  until,  by  the  work  of  weeks, 
enough  was  gathered  to  make  sufficient  material  for 
one  shirt! 

From  this  cloth  is  made  part  of  the  national  cos- 
tume of  the  lower  and  middle  class  Filipino  woman, 
viz.:  the  upper  garment,  a  loose,  low-necked  chemi- 
sette, the  wide,  puffy  sleeves  of  which  are  so  short  as 
hardly  to  reach  the  elbow.  I  have  heard  some  of  our 
people  call  this  piiia,  but  that  is  an  error,  pifia  being 
a  valuable  fabric  made  from  the  pineapple-leaf  fibre, 

89 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

and  much  worn  by  the  gentler  sex  of  the  upper  classes, 
in  the  same  manner  as  maguey  is  worn  by  the  middle 
and  lower  classes. 

Having  passed  through  the  row  of  stalls  or  "  ti- 
endas,"  as  the  sergeant  called  them,  where  cloths  were 
sold,  we  next  came  to  the  pottery  department,  where 
clay  pots  were  on  sale,  from  little  sugar-bowls  the  size 
of  a  teacup  to  large  "  tinajas,"  or  water-jars,  in  which 
a  ten-year-old  child  could  have  hidden  himself.  There 
was  a  large  heap  of  clay,  and  beside  it  the  potter  sat 
on  a  small  bench  turning  with  his  foot  a  low,  flat,  and 
horizontal  wheel,  upon  the  centre  of  which  he  banged 
down  a  lump  of  the  damp  clay,  set  the  wheel  in  motion, 
and,  presto!  before  I  knew  it  he  had  a  small  cooking- 
pot  before  him,  such  as  we  used  for  our  daily  rice. 
His  two  assistants  piled  the  thus  fashioned  pots  on  a 
board,  and,  when  they  were  thoroughly  dried,  put 
them  into  a  long  brick  oven,  to  be  baked.  Later  these 
now  finished  products  were  taken  out,  of  a  beautiful 
terra-cotta  color;  I  bought  a  small  one  for  a  cent.  An 
old  woman  who  stood  by  took  it  from  my  hands, 
tapped  it  with  her  knuckles,  pronounced  it  unsound, 
and  gave  the  potter  a  good  scolding  in  Tagalog  for 
trying  to  take  advantage  of  a  poor  prisoner  by  selling 
him  wares  which  he  could  not  get  rid  of  otherwise, 
and,  disregarding  the  expostulations  of  him  and  his 
assista^its,  commenced  sounding  pot  after  pot,  from  a 
large  heap,  until  assured  that  she  had  found  one  worth 
the  cent  it  cost.  I  saw  other  women  imitating  her  on 
the  spot,  and  the  poor  potter  seemed  the  most  un- 
comfortable wretch  in  the  whole  market. 

Next  we  came  to  the  fruit  and  vegetable  stalls  where 
the  venders,  mostly  women,  sat  amid  the  heaps  of  their 

90 


Relaxation 

wares.  Bananas  with  red,  green,  and  yellow  skins 
were  on  sale,  all  ripe,  too.  I  am  told  there  are  over 
fifty  varieties  of  these  in  the  island,  but  all  poorly  cul- 
tivated. Never  have  I  tasted  any  to  be  compared  to 
the  luscious  golden  banana  of  Honolulu.  There  were 
heaps  of  green  mangoes,  ripe  ones  not  having  arrived 
yet.  They  are  about  the  size  of  a  man's  fist,  shaped 
nearly  like  an  almond  kernel.  The  natives  seem  to  like 
them  green  as  well  as  ripe. 

Oranges,  lemons,  guavas,  shaddocks,  and  pineap- 
ples were  plentiful,  even  watermelons.  The  latter  in 
their  decided  want  of  flavor  reminded  me  of  bread 
soaked  in  water.  Another  kind  of  fruit  of  which  the 
natives  seem  to  be  fond  is  the  paw-paw.  It  resembles 
a  small  muskmelon  and  is  even  more  tasteless  than 
their  watermelon.  It  grows  on  small  trees  without 
branches,  a  cluster  of  leaves  at  the  top  resembling 
those  of  a  fig-tree. 

Cocoanuts  also  were  considerably  in  evidence,  some 
so  green  as  to  have  no  perceptible  husk  as  yet.  The 
juice  of  these  is  superior  to  the  older  ones  that  reach 
us  in  America,  the  milk  of  which  is  generally  oily  and 
tasteless,  whereas  that  of  the  young  and  green  nut  is 
agreeable  and  tart,  reminding  one  of  lemonade.  The 
cocoanut  does  not  grow  inland,  however,  requiring  the 
sandy,  lime-containing  soil  of  the  low  beaches  under 
the  tropical  sun. 

One  tienda  was  occupied  by  a  girl  making  up  the 
betel-nut  packages,  of  which  the  natives  are  so  fond. 
She  would  take  a  leaf  resembling  in  shape  and  size  that 
of  a  poplar-tree  from  a  heap  in  front  of  her.  At  her 
side  she  had  a  pot  containing  a  white  paste  of  lime 
and  water,  which  she  smeared  on  the  leaf  with  a  small 

91 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

stick  or  spatula;  then  folding  it,  and  taking  a  slice  of 
the  nut,  resembling  nutmeg,  wrapped  the  folded  leaf 
about  it.  It  was  now  ready  for  use.  The  sergeant  took 
one  and  gave  me  another.  That  was  the  only  time  I 
ever  tried  chewing  betel-nut,  or  areca-nut,  to  be  more 
exact,  but  it  did  not  remain  in  my  mouth  long  enough 
to  enable  me  to  expectorate  a  bright  blood-red,  as  the 
sergeant  did.  The  natives  call  it  "  buyo,"  which  is 
the  proper  name  of  the  leaf  in  which  the  areca-nut  is 
wrapped.  These  nuts  grow  on  small  palms  in  clusters, 
looking  much  like  small,  immature  cocoanuts.  I  have 
seen  American  soldiers,  when  short  of  tobacco,  chew 
the  buyo  leaf  as  a  substitute,  its  taste  being  hot  and 
very  pungent. 

There  were  vegetables  in  abundance,  such  as  small 
pumpkins,  squashes,  peas,  beans,  and  onions,  the  lat- 
ter only  in  a  green  state;  also  cucumbers  of  a  warty 
appearance  and  exceedingly  bitter  taste,  used  for  fla- 
voring soups.  Tamarinds  are  likewise  used  for  this 
purpose,  and  garlic  and  Chili  peppers  galore..  Pota- 
toes grow  in  some  of  the  northern  provinces  of  Luzon, 
on  the  higher  table-lands  and  in  the  mountains,  but 
are  rarely  larger  than  walnuts,  and  much  inferior  to 
those  grown  in  temperate  zones.  Comottes,  of  which 
I  have  already  spoken,  take  their  place. 

As  it  was  now  growing  late  in  the  forenoon,  we 
started  to  return,  stopping  in  to  see  the  "  tiendas  de 
los  Chinos  "  on  another  street.  The  Chinese  are  the 
true  merchants  of  the  Philippines;  every  town  has  its 
percentage  of  them.  A  Chinese  country-store  looks 
very  much  like  one  in  our  country.  The  Tagalogs  hate 
the  "  inchic,"  as  they  are  called  by  them,  the  children 
insult  and  stone  them  as  they  do  in  some  parts  of 

92 


Relaxation 

America,  the  men  frequently  taking  part  in  the  abuse, 
yet,  if  the  despised  "  Chinos  "  were  to  leave  the  islands, 
the  natives  themselves  would  be  the  greatest  sufferers. 
The  Spanish  law  at  one  time  prohibited  the  Chinese 
from  following  mercantile  pursuits  in  the  colonies,  re- 
stricting them  to  agriculture,  but  either  the  law  was 
repealed  or  became  a  dead  letter,  for  now  all  the  Chi- 
nese in  Luzon  are  merchants  or  traders  of  some  de- 
scription. 

At  length  we  returned  to  the  prison,  and  the  dream 
was  over! 

After  this  we  were  always  permitted  to  do  our  own 
marketing,  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  being  instructed 
to  send  a  man  each  time  with  the  would-be  purchaser. 
We  had  but  to  walk  up  to  a  soldier,  saying:  "  I  wish 
to  buy!  "  As  many  of  the  soldiers  did  not  understand 
Spanish  we  learned  to  say  this  in  Tagalog,  it  serving 
as  a  sort  of  password.  Whether  it  was  all  one  word 
or  composed  of  several  we  never  knew,  but  I  remem- 
ber it  still,  nor  am  I  likely  ever  to  forget  it :  Acoobibili- 
moolam!  (to  be  pronounced  "  Ah-coo-bee-bee-lee- 
moo-lam " — the  stress  on  the  last  syllable).  The 
advantage  we  gained  repaid  the  effort  of  learning  it, 
however.  We  could  use  it  with  telling  effect  on  the 
market-women,  who  became  so  tickled  at  the  idea  of 
an  American  speaking  Tagalog  that  they  sometimes 
knocked  off  ten  per  cent,  from  the  price  of  their  goods. 

Our  greatest  difficulty  lay  in  the  proper  valuation  of 
the  different  copper  coins. 

The  money  system  of  the  Philippines  was  established 
on  a  silver  basis,  and,  a  Filipino  or  Spanish  gold  coin, 
unless  worn  as  a  watch-charm,  I  have  never  seen  in  the 
island.    Their  largest  coin  was  the  silver  peso,  either 

93 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  official  Spanish  Colonial  "  duro,"  or  that  of  Mexico, 
of  about  half  the  value  of  the  American  dollar.  Next 
came  the  half  peso  and  then  the  peseta,  a  Spanish  coin, 
five  of  them  having  the  value  of  a  peso.  These  were 
again  divided  into  half  pesetas,  or  ten  cents,  a  small 
silver  coin  about  the  size  of  an  American  dime,  but  of 
only  half  its  value. 

So  far  all  was  simple  enough,  but  the  coppers !  Ten 
copper  cents  were  worth  half  a  peseta,  a  coin  the  size 
of  an  English  penny,  with  a  Spanish  king's  head 
stamped  on  its  face.  But  there  was  also  another  cop- 
per coin,  valued  at  one  cent  and  a  quarter,  or  eight  to 
half  a  peseta.  These  were  called  "  motas  "  and  were 
old  Spanish  coins  so  worn  that  on  very  few  could  the 
stamps  be  made  out.  Some  still  showed  dates  from  the 
last  century,  as  far  back  as  1750.  They  had  been  con- 
demned in  Spain  and  sent  out  to  the  Colonies  for  cir- 
culation among  the  natives,  and  are  seldom  seen  in 
Manila.  There  were  also  smaller  coppers,  or  half 
motas.  Ten  motas  were  called  "  un  real  fuerte  "  or 
"  cincapat."  Four  motas  were  simply  called  "  un  real," 
and  this  gave  rise  to  a  good  deal  of  confusion  at  times. 
One  mota  was  also  called  "  delava  qualta."  A  cent 
was  called  "  un  centavo,"  or  "  un  centimo,"  or  "  una 
perra."  This  confusion  of  names  was  naturally  the 
cause  of  much  trouble  between  the  market-women 
and  us  when  we  priced  their  goods,  until  necessity 
compelled  us  to  learn  their  respective  values.  Seven 
motas  was  our  daily  allowance. 

One  afternoon  we  asked  and  received  permission  to 
go  down  to  the  river  to  bathe.  Huber  and  I  went  first, 
accompanied  by  an  armed  guard,  but  on  reaching  the 
river  were  not  a  little  embarrassed  by  at  least  a  score 

94 


Relaxation 

of  young  ladies  seating  themselves  on  the  opposite 
bank.  We  moved  up-stream  a  hundred  yards,  but 
they  also  moved.  Then  we  besought  the  guard  to  help 
us  out  of  our  predicament  and  either  drive  the  young 
ladies  away  or  shoot  them,  but  he  either  wouldn't  or 
couldn't  understand  us.  There  remained  nothing  but 
to  appeal  to  the  seiioritas  themselves,  and  this  we  did, 
begging  them  to  spare  the  feelings  of  two  helpless  pris- 
oners, but  they  only  giggled  and  hid  their  faces  behind 
their  hands.  There  was  no  help  for  it,  so  while  Huber 
bathed  I  stood  before  him  shielding  him  with  his  shirt, 
and  he  afterward  performed  the  same  service  for  me. 
Meanwhile  the  young  damsels  on  the  opposite  bank 
became  so  shocked  that  they  retreated  behind  a  fence, 
through  the  cracks  of  which  we  could  see  their  little 
black  eyes  sparkling  mischievously. 

We  returned  in  time  to  allow  Bruce  and  Honeyman 
to  have  their  turn,  while  we  two  cooked  the  supper. 
That  evening  we  experienced  a  feeling  of  restraint 
among  us.  We  seemed  strange  to  one  another,  as  if 
we  had  but  met  an  hour  before.  The  bath  had  indeed 
transformed  our  appearance. 

Times  now  became  rather  monotonous,  O'Brien 
having  been  unsuccessful  in  gathering  any  news  from 
the  front  as  to  whether  the  American  army  was  still 
in  existence  or  not.  We;  were  all  in  the  second  month 
of  our  imprisonment,  still  not  once  had  we  heard  the 
guns  again  from  the  southward.  One  day  O'Brien 
conceived  the  bold  idea  of  going  down  to  the  front  to 
find  out  for  himself;  and  to  how  this  came  about  and 
how  he  did  it  I  will  devote  the  next  chapter. 


95 


CHAPTER  VII 

MISFORTUNES   OF  O'BRIEN 

La  Independencia,  Aguinaldo's  official  organ — Filipino  eloquence 
— The  railroad  officials — O'Brien's  visits  to  Calumpit — Ar- 
nold's confession — The  citizen  of  the  world  departs  for  the 
front — His  return — His  story — "Vamos!"  again. 

ONE  evening  O'Brien  paid  us  a  visit,  bringing 
with  him  a  copy  of  La  Independencia  stating 
that  a  fleet  of  American  vessels  had  anchored 
in  the  Gulf  of  Lingayen,  and  threatened  Dagupan. 
What  hopes  that  article  raised  as  we  sat  spelling  out 
the  words!  I  remember  it  ended  up  with:  "  Breth- 
ren, the  times  are  dark,  but  let  us  not  be  pessimistic!  " 
If  even  they  admitted  that  times  were  dark,  there  was 
hope  for  us,  for  the  old  saying,  "  what  is  one  man's 
meat  is  another  man's  poison,"  could  well  be  applied 
here.  Another  article  stated  that  the  Americans  had 
lost  three  generals,  one  being  General  MacArthur,  a 
dozen  colonels,  and  minor  officers  in  like  proportion. 
The  number  of  "  soldados  Yankees  "  killed  was  some- 
thing frightful;  they  were  "as  the  sands  on  the  sea- 
shore and  the  stars  of  the  heavens,"  stated  this  vera- 
cious and  sanguine  paper.  "  All  the  churches  in  Manila 
were  being  used  as  hospitals,  and  so  numerous  were 
the  dead  that  it  had  been  found  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  cremation  instead  of  burial.  Meanwhile 
Otis  was  ruling  Manila  with  an  iron  hand." 

96 


Misfortunes  of  O'Brien 

"  Thank  God,"  we  said  as  we  read  this,  "  even  these 
people  acknowledge  that  Manila  is  still  in  the  hands 
of  the  Americans." 

"  A  Filipino,"  continued  La  Independencia,  "  dares 
not  appear  in  the  streets  of  the  metropolis  of  his  own 
native  land.  The  Yankee  soldiers  enter  the  houses, 
kill  the  men,  insult  the  women,  and  rob  them  of  their 
valuables.  The  gutters  of  Manila  stream  with  the  life- 
blood  of  our  innocent  countrymen,  the  air  is  filled  with 
the  shrieks  of  women  and  the  groans  of  dying  men. 
In  fact,"  continues  this  graphic  journalist,  "  the  situa- 
tion can  well  be  compared  to  the  Reign  of  Terror  of 
the  French  Revolution.  The  blood  of  our  innocent 
brethren  cries  to  us  for  revenge,  and  let  it  not  appeal 
to  us  in  vain,  O  fellow  patriots!  Let  us  rise  as  one, 
my  brethren,  and  strike  while  yet  strength  remains, 
for  the  hberty  which  is  our  birthright.  Let  us  boldly 
face  and  fight  this  venomous  serpent  before  he  has  us 
helpless  in  his  coils,  and,  if  we  must  die,  let  us  rather 
fall  from  the  bite  of  his  fangs  than  be  slowly  suffo- 
cated by  the  weight  of  his  ponderous  body.  Rise!  fel- 
low countrymen,  and  drive  the  accursed  Yankee  from 
the  land,  and  if  it  must  be,  die  for  your  glorious  coun- 
try, for  your  homes,  and  your  families!  Viva  Fili- 
pinas!  " 

This  is  a  fair  specimen  of  some  of  the  articles  that 
appeared  in  La  Independencia.  Even  now,  two  years 
later,  I  have  a  good-sized  bundle  of  them  before  me, 
from  which  I  could  choose  language  more  fiery  and 
statements  more  reckless  than  the  above.  But  to  do 
the  paper  justice,  all  articles  were  not  like  this.  Never 
once  in  its  most  vehement  outbursts  have  I  seen  it 
advocate  anything  inhuman  or  criminal  in  character, 

97 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

beyond  fighting  the  enemy,  but,  like  some  other  peri- 
odicals, its  lying  was  unlimited. 

All  this  rant,  which  at  that  time  we  but  imperfectly 
understood,  gave  us  no  news.  A  few  small  skirmishes, 
generally  enlarged  to  important  battles,  gave  an  ac- 
count of  the  tremendous  loss  of  the  enemy  compared 
to  that  of  the  Filipinos — Cabo  Sanchez  receiving  a 
trifling  scratch  in  the  shoulder,  or  Teniente  Some- 
bodyelse  falling  seriously  wounded  after  first  slaying 
half  a  dozen  of  the  enemy.  We  always  believed  that 
more  than  one  teniente  had  fallen  where  six  Ameri- 
cans were  slain. 

Another  faint  ray  of  hope  came,  to  O'Brien  at  least, 
when  he  learned  of  an  Englishman,  living  in  the  town, 
a  Mr.  Higgins,  manager  of  the  railroad,  owned  by  an 
English  syndicate.  The  natives  all  spoke  with  great 
respect  of  Sefior  Higgins,  a  man  of  great  influence 
with  the  Insurgent  Government  officials,  and  in  him 
O'Brien  saw  a  possible  friend,  who,  being  his  country- 
man, would  in  all  probability  not  refuse  to  assist  him 
in  his  present  trouble,  even  if  but  to  give  him  some 
decent  clothes,  the  means  of  obtaining  something  sub- 
stantial to  eat,  or  even  a  few  English  books.  Un- 
fortunately he  was  not  in  Malolos  at  the  present  time, 
being  up  or  down  the  line  somewhere,  but  in  the  next 
town,  Calumpit,  resided  another  English  employee  of 
the  road,  Mr.  Clark,  whom  O'Brien  intended  to  visit 
next  morning,  for  he  was  now  ragged  and  penniless, 
and  in  no  better  condition  than  the  rest  of  us,  except- 
ing his  privilege  of  walking  about  town. 

Accordingly,  the  following  day  he  did  not  make  his 
appearance  until  shortly  before  sunset,  when  he  came 
into  the  yard  looking  tired  and  disappointed.    He  had 

98 


Misfortunes  of  O'Brien 

tramped  the  seven  kilometres  to  Calumpit,  under  a 
burning  sun,  only  to  find  that  Mr.  Clark  had  just  that 
morning  left  for  a  two  days'  inspection  tour.  Leav- 
ing a  note  asking  where  and  when  a  distressed  coun- 
tryman could  find  him,  O'Brien  returned  to  Malolos, 
obliged  several  times  to  show  his  pass  from  the  War 
Office  to  save  himself  from  arrest  or  even  assault. 

Next  day  Higgins  returned  to  Malolos,  but,  not- 
withstanding his  untiring  efforts,  O'Brien  could  never 
succeed  in  obtaining  an  interview — he  was  always 
"out!"  Several  times  he  met  him  driving  in  the 
street,  but  neither  shouts  nor  gesticulations  would 
attract  his  attention.  Meanwhile  days  passed,  noth- 
ing was  heard  from  Clark,  and  at  length  O'Brien  de- 
termined once  more  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Again  he  was 
disappointed.  Mr.  Clark  was  not  at  home,  his  na- 
tive wife  averred,  and  even  if  he  was,  she  did  not  think 
that  a  man  in  such  rags  as  the  visitor  wore  would 
be  welcome.  As  for  him  being  a  countryman  of  her 
husband,  she  did  not  believe  it — he  surely  was  one  of 
the  hated  Americans,  and  had  better  make  himself 
scarce.  This  was  the  manner  in  which  the  dusky  Mrs. 
Clark  received  the  poor  fellow  on  his  second  visit, 
which  was  rather  significant,  considering  that  on  his 
first  visit  she  had  been  exceedingly  pleasant.  He  was 
now  heartily  discouraged  and  determined  to  pay  no 
more  visits  to  Calumpit. 

One  day,  while  strolling  about  the  railroad  station, 
O'Brien  saw  a  white  man  coming  up  the  track  on  a 
hand-car.  Asking  a  native  employee  of  the  road  who 
this  gentleman  was,  he  was  told,  "  El  sefior  Clark." 
As  he  passed,  O'Brien  spoke  to  him,  but  "  Sefior  " 
Clark  heeded  him  no  more  than  if  he  had  been  a  native 

99 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

beggar.  Poor  man,  no  wonder  he  was  "  a  citizen  of 
the  world." 

One  evening  our  English  fellow-sufferer  came  to  us 
with  an  account  of  an  interview  he  had  had  with  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Arnold,  while  that  gentleman  lay  on  the 
floor  in  his  cell  in  a  maudlin  state  of  intoxication. 
Being  in  a  rather  sentimental  mood,  he  had  grasped 
O'Brien's  hand,  and  with  sobs  and  tears  confided  to 
him  the  whole  story  of  his  treachery  from  beginning 
to  end,  admitting  that  he  had  betrayed  us,  his  excuse 
being  that  "  cast  in  a  finer  mould  "  (his  own  oft-re- 
peated expression)  from  the  rest  of  us,  "  his  finer  nature 
shrank  from  such  a  foolhardy  enterprise  as  we  had  con- 
templated, and  believing  that  if  he  remained  behind 
and  allowed  us  to  escape,  the  guards  in  their  anger 
might  kill  him!  "  Consequently  the  object  of  the  be- 
trayal had  been  but  to  protect  himself.  He  "  trusted 
to  an  Overruling  Power  to  prove  his  innocence." 
After  he  had  related  this  to  us,  O'Brien's  only  com- 
ment was:  "  Well,  he's  not  a  true  Britisher,  anyhow." 

We  witnessed  an  incident  one  evening  which  sug- 
gested to  us  that  even  the  Filipinos  were  beginning  to 
think  it  wise  to  prepare  for  the  defence  of  the  capital 
itself.  Hearing  a  loud  noise  in  the  street,  we  rushed 
to  the  window  and  observed  at  least  two  hundred  na- 
tives pulling  on  a  stout  rope,  dragging  a  large  Krupp 
gun  of  at  least  six  inches  calibre,  dismounted  and 
wrapped  in  coarse  matting,  out  of  which  both  ends 
protruded.  Several  days  later  we  saw  it  lying  in  the 
plaza,  and  O'Brien  had  seen  two  similar  ones  in  other 
parts  of  the  town.  However,  one  day  it  was  gone,  and 
a  certain  unevenness  of  the  sod  on  the  surface  caused 
us  to  surmise  that  it  had  been  buried  there.    That  we 

lOO 


Misfortunes  of  O'Brien 

judged  correctly  was  proved  afterward  when  the 
Americans  took  the  town,  finding  and  unearthing 
the  cannon  there,  its  location  being  revealed  by  the 
Chinese. 

O'Brien,  usually  of  a  rather  optimistic  disposition, 
had  now,  after  repeated  disappointments,  become 
much  discouraged.  It  was  the  evening  of  March  3d 
when  he  came  to  us  and  said:  "  Boys,  I  can't  stand 
this  any  longer  without  making  some  efifort  to  regain 
my  liberty.  To-morrow  I'm  off  for  Manila.  I'll  stake 
the  little  privileges  I've  got  to  get  through,  and  if  I 
fail,  well,  then  I'll  probably  be  lodged  with  you." 

That  evening  we  all  wrote,  on  the  veriest  scraps  of 
old  and  dirty  paper,  so-called  letters  home,  and  when 
O'Brien  came  in  next  morning  to  bid  us  good-by,  he 
hid  them  in  his  shoes.  To  meet  the  expenses  of  living 
and  railroad  fare  to  the  front,  for  which  he  did  not 
possess  sufficient  funds,  we  managed  to  squeeze  our 
mess-funds  to  the  extent  of  thirty  cents,  which  we 
added  to  his  own  scant  treasury.  We  did  not  dare  to 
shake  hands,  in  sight  of  the  natives,  but  when  he  left 
us  he  took  with  him  our  most  fervent  wishes  for  his 
success. 

When  evening  came  and  O'Brien  did  not  appear  as 
usual,  we  knew  that  he  had  at  last  "  struck  out,"  to 
use  his  own  expression,  and  would  never  return  un- 
less brought  back  by  force.  As  the  next  day  passed 
without  his  reappearance,  our  hopes  for  his  success  in- 
creased. Surely  if  he  failed  he  would  be  brought  back 
to  Malolos,  or  would  they  possibly  once  more  confine 
him  alone  in  the  convent  of  Santa  Isabela?  As  even- 
ing again  approached  we  became  almost  certain  that 
our  English  friend  was  now  within  the  American  lines. 

lOI 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

It  was  shortly  after  the  church-bells  had  tolled  the 
"  Angelus,"  when  all  was  still  and  darkness  had  almost 
settled  over  the  town,  that  a  disturbance  outside 
aroused  our  curiosity.  Men  were  talking  excitedly 
and  running  about,  when,  suddenly,  above  the  tumult 
we  heard  a  familiar  voice:  "  Hello  boys,  home  again!  " 
There  was  no  mistaking  that.  The  doors  were  thrown 
wide  open,  and  Jack  O'Brien  was  shoved  violently  in. 
"  Well,  I've  come  to  stay,"  he  quietly  remarked,  as 
he  seated  himself  on  the  edge  of  the  bed. 

Although  much  disappointed,  O'Brien  was  too  much 
of  a  philosopher  to  make  any  display  of  his  feelings. 
Being  almost  famished  he  begged  us  for  something 
to  eat,  and,  after  satisfying  his  hunger  with  some  rice 
and  camottes,  he  related  his  story  of  how  he  had  at- 
tempted to  pass  through  the  Insurgent  lines  into  the 
American  camp,  and  how  he  failed: 

"  Going  down  to  the  station  yesterday  morning,"  he 
began,  "  I  persuaded  a  boy  to  buy  me  a  ticket  for  as 
far  as  the  train  now  goes,  which  is  only  to  Meycaua- 
yan,  as  I  did  not  consider  it  wise  to  present  myself 
at  the  ticket  office,  and  when  the  nine  o'clock  passen- 
ger came  along,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  boarding  her. 
Nobody  molested  me  until  we  arrived  at  Meycauayan, 
when,  on  stepping  off  the  train,  I  was  arrested  and 
brought  before  the  commanding  officer,  to  whom  I 
at  once  showed  my  consular  certificate  and  the  War 
Office  pass.  This  seemed  to  thoroughly  convince  him, 
for  he  became  polite  at  once  and  promised  to  send 
me  through  under  a  flag  of  truce.  It  being  Sunday, 
however,  he  informed  me  that  I  should  have  to  wait 
until  the  next  day,  as  the  officers  were  all  attending 

102 


Misfortunes  of  O'Brien 

mass,  but  that  I  should  be  looked  after  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning.  You  can  imagine  what  an  uneasy 
time  I  spent  that  night.  True  to  his  word,  he  in- 
structed a  young  officer  to  take  charge  of  me,  and 
the  two  of  us  together  stepped  into  a  carromata  and 
drove  down  the  road  to  Manila.  The  fact  that  we 
two  were  alone  and  entirely  unattended  by  soldiers  en- 
couraged me  a  good  deal — evidently  I  was  not  re- 
garded as  a  prisoner.  Soon  the  increasing  number  of 
bamboo  barracks  convinced  me  that  we  were  fast  ap- 
proaching the  main  body  of  the  army.  Rapidly  we 
neared  Caloocan,  and  just  as  he  pointed  out  to  me  a 
small  hill  on  the  top  of  which  the  Insurgent  soldiers 
lay  intrenched,  facing  the  Americans,  we  reached  a 
temporarily  built  village  of  soldiers'  barracks.  These 
had  been  built  about  a  large  house  which  seemed  to 
be  the  head-quarters  of  the  officers.  Before  this  we 
dismounted  and  entered  a  room,  where  the  young 
lieutenant  bade  me  be  seated.  A  fine  breakfast  was 
here  served  for  two  of  us,  for,  said  the  officer,  you 
must  not  leave  us  hungry.  A  telegraphic  instrument 
was  ticking  in  another  room,  and  that  spoiled  my  ap- 
petite. At  last  we  got  into  the  carromata  again,  much 
to  my  relief,  but  before  we  could  drive  ofif  an  officer 
appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the  house  and  called  us 
in.  I  was  left  alone  while  the  two  officers  went  into 
the  adjoining  room,  but  as  that  telegraphic  instrument 
was  still  tapping  away  so  distinctly  that  I  fancied  I 
heard  it  pronounce  my  name,  a  sickly  feeling  overcame 
me.  When  the  lieutenant  came  out  and  we  stepped 
into  the  vehicle  once  more,  he  simply  said:  *  We  can't 
send  you  through  to-day;  they  have  commenced  fight- 
ing.   Mariana! '    Then  I  knew  all  was  lost. 

103 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  The  drive  back  to  Meycauayan  seemed  long  com- 
pared to  our  coming.  I  knew  that  I  was  once  more 
a  prisoner,  for  two  guards  accompanied  us  on  horse- 
back. No  sooner  had  we  arrived  than  they  hustled 
me  aboard  the  afternoon  train  for  Malolos.  In  the 
same  coach  with  me  I  found  another  white  man  to 
whom  the  Filipino  officers  spoke  with  great  deference. 
So  Anglo-Saxon  did  he  appear  that  I  addressed  him 
in  English:  '  Are  you  Mr.  Higgins?  '  '  No/  he  replied, 
*  my  name  is  Murray,  and  I  am  inspector  of  locomo- 
tives on  this  road.'  He  furthermore  informed  me  that 
he  had  had  some  trouble  with  the  Insurgent  officials 
about  the  number  of  special  trains  they  wanted  with- 
out paying  for  the  accommodation,  and  he  had  re- 
fused to  furnish  any  more.  This  had  caused  some 
words,  and  he  was  now  on  his  way  to  Malolos  to  con- 
sult with  Higgins.  When  I  commenced  to  ask  him 
whereabouts  the  Insurgent  forces  were  posted  and  how 
many  they  numbered,  he  seemed  suddenly  to  become 
suspicious  of  me  and  snapped  out:  '  I  don't  know.' 
When  I  told  him  of  my  twenty-seven  days'  imprison- 
ment in  Santa  Isabela,  he  made  no  reply,  but  after- 
ward remarked  that  I  had  been  foolish  in  attempting 
to  escape.  *  Why  don't  you  wear  decent  clothes? ' 
he  continued,  surveying  my  ragged  raiment,  and  when 
I  explained,  '  For  the  simple  reason  that  I  have  none,' 
he  said  no  more.  In  fact,  for  the  rest  of  the  trip  he 
answered  only  in  monosyllables.  " 

"  As  the  train  pulled  into  Malolos  station,  and  we 
stepped  on  the  platform,  a  number  of  Filipino  officers 
and  a  white  man  came  forward  to  meet  us.  The  latter 
walked  up  to  Murray,  with:  *  How  are  things  going, 
Murray? '  *  Beastly,  Higgins,'  answered  the  inspector 

104 


Misfortunes  of  O'Brien 

of  locomotives.  '  Never  passed  a  worse  time  in  my 
life;  the  beggars  are  actually  disrespectful  to  me. 
Haven't  had  tiffin  to-day.'  Murray  then  told  Higgins 
who  I  was,  and  then  and  there  I  asked  the  latter  as  a 
countryman  to  do  something  for  me,  at  the  same  time 
showing  consular  certificate  and  Insurgent  pass,  to 
prove  my  nationality.  *  All  right ! '  he  answered,  '  I'll 
see  about  it.' 

"  All  of  us  now  walked  up  to  the  Secretary  of  War's 
office,  where  Higgins  was  received  with  a  number  of 
bows  from  all  present,  the  officers  begging  the  Sefior 
Higgins  to  sit  in  a  reclining  chair  close  to  the  window 
where  the  air  was  '  mas  fresco,'  and  would  the  *  ex- 
celentisimo  sefior'  have  a  cigar!  I  was  then  hustled 
out  again,  Higgins  promising  once  more  to  exert  him- 
self in  my  behalf,  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  his  manner  did 
not  inspire  me  with  confidence.  So  then  I  was  brought 
over  here,  boys !  " 

O'Brien  having  finished  his  narrative,  we  fell  to  dis- 
cussing the  situation,  trying  to  see  a  favorable  sign 
in  the  fact  that  the  Insurgent  lines  extended  no  farther 
than  Polo,  or  at  least  not  to  Caloocan.  This  was  cer- 
tainly proof  that  the  Americans  had  pushed  on  up  the 
country  that  far. 

Once  more  we  now  renewed  our  plan  for  an  escape. 
There  was  now  no  traitor  among  us,  that  much  we 
knew,  and  on  the  next  favorable  night  we  would  slip 
that  bar  and  be  of¥  for  the  jungle.  Finally  we  fell 
asleep,  little  dreaming  that  it  was  really  to  be  our  last 
night  in  Malolos! 

The  morning  of  March  6th  broke  a  dull  one.  We 
went  through  our  usual  routine  of  cooking,  eating, 

105 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

marketing,  and  lounging  in  the  yard.  We  could  not 
even  get  up  the  excitement  of  an  argument  among 
ourselves.  At  last  Arnold  came  staggering  into  the 
yard,  recklessly  drunk,  and  started  to  fight  with  a  na- 
tive, who  promptly  knocked  him  down.  We  were  just 
in  the  midst  of  this  commotion,  when  the  sergeant  of 
the  guard  appeared  and  told  us  to  prepare  for  march- 
ing.   We  were  to  "  vamos!  " 

This  caused  the  longed-for  sensation!  But  where 
were  we  to  go?  Had  the  Americans  begun  the  ad- 
vance? We  could  only  surmise.  Could  it  be  possible 
that  they  were  going  to  exchange  us?  It  was  with 
suppressed  excitement  that  we  lined  up  outside  in  the 
entrance.  Arnold  caused  quite  a  disturbance;  he  did 
not  wish  to  join  us,  but  his  expostulations  did  not  avail. 

Antonio,  the  renegade  lieutenant,  the  ex-prisoner, 
who  had  sold  his  country  for  fifteen  pesos  monthly 
salary,  now  appeared  with  three  guards,  and,  giving 
the  word  to  "  sigue,"  we  bid  our  few  acquaintances 
"adios!"  the  little  sergeant  especially — he  had  been 
good  to  us. 

Down  the  street  we  marched  into  the  plaza.  Now, 
would  we  turn  to  our  left  over  the  stone  bridge  to 
the  north?  No,  we  passed  it!  Right  on  by  the  Presi- 
dencia  and  down  the  road  leading  south.  We  were 
going  toward  Manila! 


io6 


CHAPTER  VIII 

SANTA   ISABELA 

The  convent — Unaccustomed  luxury — Faded  grandeur — The 
massacre  of  the  friars — The  native  militia — A  glimpse  at 
the  Insurgent  Civil  Government — The  13th  again — Escape 
of  Bruce,  Honeyman,  and  O'Brien. 

SOON  we  left  the  town  far  behind  and  were 
marching  down  a  country  road  on  both  sides 
of  which  the  bamboos  grew  so  thickly  that  their 
leafy  tops  intermingled  overhead,  forming  in  some 
places  natural  archways  of  tropical  foliage. 

Suddenly  O'Brien  cried:  "  Hello,  I  know  this  spot! 
Here  the  three  soldiers  held  me  up— we  are  on  the 
road  to  Santa  Isabela!  " 

He  was  not  mistaken.  In  less  than  an  hour  we 
entered  the  plaza  of  a  small  "  pueblo  "  of  bamboo  huts, 
and  the  inevitable  church  and  convent.  All  the  former 
piled  together  could  have  found  ample  room  under 
the  lofty  roof  of  the  latter.  It  reminded  me  of  a  vam- 
pire bat,  having  grown  large  and  fat  by  the  blood 
sucked  from  its  victims. 

Opposite  the  church,  on  the  other  side  of  the  plaza, 
stood  the  largest  house  in  the  village,  a  wooden  hut 
built  on  a  stone  foundation  and  thatched  with  nipa. 
Taking  us  up  into  one  of  the  two  rooms  of  this  habita- 
tion, Antonio  delivered  us  over  to  the  municipal  presi- 
dent of  Santa  Isabela,  and  then  left  to  return  to  Ma- 
lolos.    This  shanty  was  the  "  presidencia  "  of  the  town, 

107 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

or,  as  we  might  call  it,  the  "  city  hall."  Shortly 
after  our  arrival  our  new  guards  conducted  us  across 
the  plaza  into  the  convent,  passing  up  a  broad  stair- 
case, and  through  a  succession  of  large  rooms  until  we 
finally  brought  up  in  one  of  these  spacious  apartments, 
four  times  the  dimensions  of  our  Malolos  cell.  Two 
bedsteads  of  massive  mahogany  and  of  a  size  corre- 
sponding to  the  roorn  were  all  the  furniture  to  be  seen, 
and  these  we  immediately  took  possession  of,  as  our 
guards  informed  us  that  this  would  be  our  new  prison. 
"  In  this  very  room,"  O'Brien  remarked,  "  I  was  con- 
fined for  two  days,  and  to-morrow  you  will  see  the 
cage  outside  on  the  balcony  where  they  kept  me  the 
other  twenty-five  days.     Look  at  the  walls  here!" 

Taking  up  a  small  cocoanut-oil  lamp,  made  of  a 
common  tumbler  and  a  string,  we  held  it  to  the  walls 
the  better  to  examine  them.  They  had  at  one  time 
been  frescoed,  but  now  appeared  faded  and  dirty.  All 
over  had  been  written  poetry,  political  treatises,  reflec- 
tions on  the  war  and  a  sort  of  vocabulary  of  English, 
Spanish,  and  Tagalog,  all  O'Brien's  work,  the  pastime 
of  a  lonely  prisoner. 

We  experienced  a  novel  sensation  that  night  in 
sleeping  in  so  much  surplus  of  space  in  which  to  kick 
about  our  limbs  without  bringing  them  in  violent 
contact  with  a  neighbor,  and  we  appreciated  the 
luxury. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  awoke,  all  anxious  to  in- 
spect our  new  quarters.  As  before  stated,  we  had  oc- 
cupied a  roomy  apartment,  but  the  one  adjoining,  in 
which  our  guards  kept  watch,  was  much  larger,  and 
also  showed  traces  of  former  grandeur.  Ceiling  and 
walls  had  been  frescoed  artistically,  but  were  now  faded 

1 08 


Santa  Isabela 

and  covered  with  cobwebs.  The  floor  was  of  polished 
mountain  mahogany,  and  the  bedsteads,  four  in  num- 
ber, were  of  the  same  material  and  elaborately  carved. 
Pieces  of  ragged  hangings  and  of  once  rich  laces  of 
beautiful  design  hung  from  the  frames  above.  In  the 
centre  of  the  room  stood  a  table,  wonderfully  carved, 
but  much  the  worse  for  rough  usage.  Its  round  top, 
at  least  four  feet  in  diameter,  consisted  of  a  single  piece 
of  polished  "  narra  "  wood,  hewn  from  the  log,  and  in 
our  country  would  have  brought  a  considerable  sum 
of  money.  Candles  had  been  allowed  to  bum  down  on 
and  into  it,  and  besides,  it  was  covered  with  dents  and 
deep  scratches. 

In  one  corner  of  the  room  the  guards  pointed  out 
a  large  dark  discoloration,  or  stain,  on  the  floor.  The 
walls  close  by  were  speckled  with  black  spots,  as  if  a 
bucket  of  paint  had  been  spilled  and  splashed  up  on 
them.  Here,  we  were  told  by  those  who  claimed  to 
be  eye-witnesses,  it  was  where  the  three  padres,  who 
formerly  had  occupied  this  convent,  had  fallen  in  a 
screaming  heap,  their  black  robes  rent  and  stained 
with  their  own  blood,  begging  for  mercy  from  those  to 
whom  they  themselves  never  had  shown  any.  The 
local  president  himself  had  struck  the  head  off  Padre 
Tomas  with  one  powerful  sweep  of  his  bolo,  his  arm 
gaining  strength  by  the  recollection  of  this  same  holy 
padre's  denunciation  of  his  son,  who  subsequently  fell 
on  the  Luneta  at  Manila  under  the  fire  of  a  squad  of 
Spanish  soldiers. 

Returning  to  our  room  we  opened  a  door  and 
walked  out  on  a  balcony  or  gallery  about  six  feet  in 
width,  extending  along  the  side  of  the  building.  The 
main  roof,  of  tiles,  projected  its  eaves  down  over  this 

109 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

also,  and  by  closing  the  sliding  shell  windows  or 
blinds,  resembling  transparent  checker-boards,  the 
whole  became  a  long,  narrow  room  incorporated  with 
the  rest  of  the  building.  One  end  of  this  gallery  was 
spaced  off  by  a  wooden  partition,  forming  a  closet 
about  five  by  six  feet  in  dimension.  Entering  this  by 
a  small  sliding  door  in  the  partition,  we  found  it  bare- 
ly roomy  enough  to  hold  the  five  of  us.  This  was 
O'Brien's  "  cage,"  as  he  called  it.  Every  available 
square  inch  was  covered  with  writing,  some  of  the  lines 
not  over-elegant  in  expression  or  execution  but  very 
much  to  the  point,  nevertheless,  and  all  inscribed  with 
a  rusty  nail. 

Returning  to  our  sleeping  -  quarters  we  passed 
through  the  guard-room  and  out  on  an  extensive  tile- 
floored  balcony  into  the  open  air.  It  was  at  least  thirty 
feet  square,  about  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  and 
protected  by  a  solid  stone  railing  on  its  three  ex- 
posed sides.  Here,  in  the  old  days,  the  friars  were 
accustomed  to  sit  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  with  their 
friends,  the  garrison  officers,  enjoying  the  glowing 
sunsets,  sipping  black  coffee  and  smoking  their  Caga- 
yan  cigars. 

From  here  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding 
jungles,  rice  paddies,  and  the  nipa  roofs  of  the  village, 
while  far  off  in  the  distance  through  a  break  in  an  in- 
tervening jungle  a  piece  of  the  railroad  could  be  seen. 
We  had  indeed  reason  to  be  well  pleased  with  our  re- 
moval from  the  "  Gobiemo  Militar  "  of  Malolos  to  the 
convent  of  Santa  Isabela,  not  alone  on  account  of  our 
greater  personal  comfort,  but  because  as  we  stood  on 
this  elevated  platform  and  gazed  southward  we  realized 
that  we  were  three  miles  closer  to  our  lines  and  to 

rllO 


Santa  Isabela 

Manila.  Never  in  Malolos  had  we  had  such  favorable 
surroundings  for  carrying  out  the  plans  which  we  so 
long  had  awaited  an  opportunity  to  put  into  execu- 
tion. 

During  the  day  many  curious  natives  of  both  sexes 
came  to  gaze  upon  us  with  a  persistence  and  stupidity 
of  expression  truly  bovine,  but  beyond  this  did  not 
make  themselves  offensive.  It  was  late  in  the  after- 
noon before  our  rations  of  rice  were  issued,  and  by 
the  time  we  had  cooked  them  out  on  the  balcony  on  a 
primitive  stove  of  broken  tiles,  we  had  been  fasting 
just  thirty-six  hours. 

It  amuses  me  now  to  call  to  mind  how  we  spent 
that  afternoon,  before  the  rice  finally  came,  lying 
on  the  beds  trying  to  imagine  that  we  had  but  lately 
eaten,  cursing  the  Filipinos  in  general.  At  noon  we 
advocated  the  shooting  of  all  their  leaders  as  a  just 
retribution  for  starving  their  prisoners.  By  one 
o'clock,  as  the  pangs  of  hunger  became  more  acute, 
we  all  agreed  that  hanging  them  would  be  more  appro- 
priate, by  this  time  including  every  Filipino  officer. 
At  three  we  made  no  more  distinctions — every  male 
Filipino  deserved  death.  Four  o'clock  found  our  sen- 
timents still  more  sanguinary — every  native  man, 
woman,  and  child  should  be  put  to  slow  torture;  and 
by  five  o'clock  we  had  the  whole  land  drenched  in 
blood!  Then  the  rice  appeared,  and  after  cooking  and 
eating  it  we  would  have  been  quite  willing  to  spare 
the  women  and  children.  I  may  laugh  at  these  recol- 
lections now,  but  then  they  were  all  too  serious. 

Our  guards,  who  numbered  about  nine,  were  com- 
posed partly  of  the  local  police,  and  some  were  militia 
or  bolomen.    These  latter  lived  in  their  homes,  cul- 

III 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

tivated  their  fields,  etc.,  but  were  drilled  with  wooden 
guns,  and  were  obliged  to  be  ready  at  a  moment's  call. 
Their  only  arms  were  the  native  sword  or  bolo,  and 
their  uniforms  scant  and  ragged.  The  police  were 
armed  with  Remingtons,  and  wore  dark  blue  home- 
spun uniforms,  resembling  suits  of  American  dunga- 
rees or  overalls.  Santa  Isabela  had  about  six  of  the 
latter,  three  of  which  guarded  us  continually — the 
bolomen  being  relieved  every  morning.  All  were 
under  the  command  of  the  local  president  or  mayor. 
This  strikes  me  as  an  opportune  moment  to  describe 
in  short  the  civil  government  of  the  Insurgents. 

At  the  head  of  each  province,  and  quite  aside  from 
the  military  governor,  was  what  was  called  "  el  presi- 
dente  provincial "  or  "  gobernador."  His  position 
was  practically  the  same  as  that  of  a  governor  of  an 
American  State,  he  being  the  executive  of  civil  law. 
Under  him  came  the  "  concierjo  de  justicia,"  or  su- 
preme judge  of  the  province;  the  "  Concierjo  de  Ren- 
tas,"  or  tax  collector;  and  the  "  presidentes  locales,"  or 
as  the  Spaniards  called  them,  "  capitanes  municipales." 
These  latter  were  what  we  would  term  mayors  of 
towns,  one  being  at  the  head  of  each  pueblo.  On  his 
staff  came  the  "  concierjo  de  policia,"  a  chief  of  police, 
and  his  lieutenants,  and,  if  the  size  of  the  town  war- 
ranted it,  the  local  tax  collector  and  a  justice  of  the 
peace. 

The  town  was  divided  into  "  barrios,"  or  quarters, 
there  being  at  the  head  of  each  a  "  cabeza,"  or  ward- 
master,  who  represented  his  particular  barrio  at  the 
municipal  councils  in  the  "  presidencia,"  or  city  hall. 
All  these  offices  were  filled  by  the  election  of  the  peo- 
ple; none  but  civilians  were  appointed.     Every  male 

112 


Santa  Isabela 

above  twenty  was  an  elector.  Each  province  also 
elected  a  "  representante  de  la  provincia,"  for  its  repre- 
sentation in  Congress  at  Malolos  or  wherever  the 
capital  might  be.  All  this  was  apart  from  the  military 
government,  but  the  "  comandantes "  of  districts 
could  demand  food  and  quarters  for  troops  from  the 
local  presidents  if  necessary. 

Such  was  the  Civil  Government  of  the  Insurgents, 
based  almost  on  the  same  system  as  ours,  although 
more  crude  and  imperfect,  but  answering  its  purpose 
nearly  equally  well.  Under  normal  conditions  the 
Filipino  is  naturally  a  peaceful  and  law-abiding  citizen, 
but,  of  course,  it  must  be  remembered  that  at  this  time 
the  excitement  of  war,  never  the  promoter  of  law  or 
order,  existed  throughout  the  country.  It  has  been 
admitted  by  the  natives  themselves  that  in  the  begin- 
ning, after  the  downfall  of  Spanish  rule  in  the  prov- 
inces, and  while  the  persecutions  by  the  friars  were 
still  vivid  in  the  mind  of  the  populace,  many  outrages 
were  committed,  but,  gradually,  as  the  internal  gov- 
ernment became  more  firmly  established,  these  became 
less  frequent.  In  many  cases  Spanish  prisoners  ob- 
tained redress  by  appealing  to  the  native  courts. 

As  stated  above,  we  now  began  to  watch  for  the  first 
opportunity  to  carry  out  our  plans  for  escape  in  ear- 
nest, being  sorely  pressed  by  the  almost  constant 
hunger  we  suffered  here,  for  the  seven  motas  brought 
not  half  as  much  in  Santa  Isabela  as  in  Malolos,  and 
comottes  were  scarce.  The  only  chance  for  consult- 
ing with  each  other  was  on  the  balcony  while  cook- 
ing, for  inside  Arnold  was  always  present.  He  cooked 
by  himself,  the  rest  of  us  together,  for  we  did  not  de- 
sire any  closer  association  with  him  than  what  was 

113 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

necessary.  On  account  of  him  we  were  obliged  to 
be  extremely  careful  in  our  conversation,  for  we  knew 
that  if  he  should  hear  one  suspicious  word  he  would 
surely  again  endeavor  to  sell  us  out  to  the  Insurgent 
officials. 

The  13th  of  March  was  gloomy  and  stormy.  Again 
the  moon  was  dark.  The  two  or  three  preceding  days 
had  been  similar,  and  had  the  opportunity  presented 
itself  we  would  have  been  off  before,  but  the  door  to 
the  outside  gallery  had  always  been  closed  at  sunset. 
On  this  particular  evening,  at  seven  o'clock,  it  was 
still  open.  A  strange  fatality  had  marked  out  the  13th 
for  us  again. 

It  was  already  dark,  though  only  seven;  I  was  lying 
on  one  of  the  beds,  my  canvas  shoes  sHpped  off,  but 
within  easy  reach  on  the  floor.  The  guards  had  taken 
the  only  light  into  their  room,  and  were  now  all  ab- 
sorbed in  a  game  of  monte.  My  four  companions 
were  in  with  them.  Arnold  lay  in  a  corner  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  room,  and,  as  he  had  not  moved 
for  some  time,  I  thought  him  asleep. 

Suddenly  a  dark  figure  glided  by  me  and  moved 
toward  the  door  to  the  gallery.  I  heard  a  faint  whis- 
per: "  Come  on,  let's  hit  the  trail! "  It  was  Bruce's 
voice.  Jumping  up  I  slipped  on  one  shoe.  Mean- 
while other  figures  were  moving  stealthily  by.  I  was 
tying  the  lacing  of  my  second  shoe,  when  I  heard  a 
thud  on  the  ground  outside — Bruce  had  made  the 
drop.  All  at  once  a  loud  cry  rang  out :  "  Guards, 
guards,  the  Americans  are  escaping!  Guards!  "  And 
Arnold  leaped  up  from  his  corner  and  ran  to  the  door 
of  the  guard-room.  In  a  moment  the  room  was  full 
of  armed  men,  and,  together  with  the  last  one  of  the 

114 


Santa  Isabela 

figures  that  had  passed  me,  I  found  myself  hurled 
bodily  back  from  the  door  to  the  bed.  The  light  had 
been  brought  in  and  a  torch  made  of  a  twisted  sheet 
of  paper  brightly  illuminated  the  room  for  a  few  sec- 
onds. I  now  saw  that  my  companion  was  Huber. 
Three  hammers  clicked,  and  the  muzzles  of  three  Rem- 
ingtons were  pointed  at  us.  I  half  expected  to  hear 
the  report,  but  slowly  they  were  lowered  again,  as 
the  bolomen  bound  us  together,  arm  to  arm.  One, 
thoroughly  bewildered,  stood  over  Arnold,  his  weapon 
raised  as  if  to  strike,  while  the  latter  had  dropped  to 
his  knees,  holding  his  clasped  hands  beseechingly  up. 
All  this  took  place  in  about  thirty  seconds,  but  Bruce, 
Honeyman,  and  O'Brien  were  gone. 


lis 


CHAPTER   IX 

SOUNDS    OF   WAR 

The  alarm  raised — A  lady's  joke — Captain  Espina  intercedes  for 
us — Pounding  rice — Antonio  de  la  Peiia — The  ancient  mariner 
— The  young  lieutenant  and  the  Springfield  rifle — Insurgent 
officers  and  their  salaries — Espina's  story — Rumors  of  an 
advance — Cannonading — The  fleeing  population — The  mob 
— A  friend  in  need — On  to  Malolos  and  a  reunion. 

SO  furious  had  I  expected  the  guards  to  become 
on  discovering  the  escape,  that  I  feared  the 
worst  treatment  possible,  but  in  this  I  was  mis- 
taken. Having  securely  tied  Huber  and  me  together, 
they  now  stood  stupidly  starinj^^at  each  other  in  con- 
fused terror.  What  punisjam&t  might  they  not  ex- 
pect now  after  allowing  halrof  the  Government's  great- 
est treasures  to  slip  through  their  fingers?  The  only 
trophies  of  the  war,  and  now  half  of  them  gone!  It 
was  a  national  calamity. 

Finally  the  corporal  of  the  police  recovered  his 
senses  and  ran  over  to  the  presidencia  to  raise  the 
alarm,  and  a  few  moments  later  the  President  and  all 
his  councilmen  came  rushing  over.  The  chief  of 
police,  the  tax  collector,  the  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
all  the  ward  masters,  who  had  been  sitting  in  grave 
consultation  in  the  city  hall,  weighing  important 
questions  concerning  the  public  welfare,  broke  up  the 
meeting  to  run  over  in  a  body  to  the  scene  of  the  great 

ii6 


Sounds  of  War 

disaster.  Half  the  American  prisoners  escaped!  It 
was  terrible! 

Huber  and  I  were  bodily  dragged  downstairs,  across 
the  plaza,  and  thrust  into  a  small  cell  under  the  mu- 
nicipal council  chamber,  where  the  greatest  excite- 
ment prevailed,  as  we  could  see  through  the  cracks  in 
the  floor.  Bells  were  now  ringing  and  drums  beaten 
to  spread  the  alarm  abroad,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
time  the  populace  had  flocked  into  the  plaza  from  all 
directions,  running  to  and  fro  with  flaming  torches  in 
their  hands,  giving  vent  to  their  excitement  in  shrill 
screams.  A  stranger  ignorant  of  the  cause,  would  have 
supposed  a  sudden  night  attack  of  the  enemy.  Of 
course,  we  naturally  supposed  that  it  would  be  their 
first  aim  to  pursue  and  capture  the  fugitives,  but  in- 
stead of  doing  this  they  came  over  to  revile  us  as 
being  the  cause  of  the  catastrophe. 

The  place  in  which  we  three  now  found  ourselves 
(Arnold  again  having  gained  but  little  by  his  treach- 
ery, being  shoved  in  after  Huber  and  me)  was  an  old 
stable,  about  large  enough  for  two  horses.  The  walls 
were  stone,  with  one  side  almost  entirely  open,  though 
heavily  barred.  Besides  ourselves  there  were  at  least 
a  dozen  native  prisoners,  showing  it  was  the  municipal 
jail.  So  crowded  was  this  hole  that  the  only  available 
space  in  which  to  lie  down  was  a  bamboo  cot  that 
stood  close  up  against  the  bars,  which  was  a  most  un- 
desirable position,  as  soon  became  evident. 

Soon  there  appeared  on  the  outside  of  the  bars  a 
solid  mass  of  black  faces,  their  teeth  visible  in  shining 
white  rows  like  those  of  snarling  curs.  Bolos  were 
poked  through,  stones  thrown  in,  and  they  even  spat 
in  our  faces.    The  cell  being  small  and  crowded,  we 

117 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

lay  there  helpless,  unable  to  withdraw  out  of  the  mob's 
reach.  Unfortunately  for  myself  I  lay  closest  to  the 
bars;  Huber  came  next,  and  then  Arnold.  Thus  we 
were  obliged  to  partly  shield  him  with  our  bodies. 

Toward  midnight  the  majority  of  the  rabble  with- 
drew, but  even  then  there  was  no  sleep  to  be  had,  for 
no  sooner  had  my  surroundings  grown  indistinct,  when 
a  stone  thrown  or  the  contents  of  a  glass  of  water 
brought  me  back  to  reality. 

By  morning  the  excitement  had  cooled  down  con- 
siderably, for,  although  crowds  of  natives  still  came 
to  abuse  and  insult  us,  no  personal  violence,  as  on  the 
night  before,  was  perpetrated.  There  was  one  curious 
exception  to  this  statement,  however. 

Shortly  after  daylight  the  door  opened  and  the  cor- 
poral of  police  entered,  his  Remington  slung  over  his 
shoulder.  Of  all  our  guards  he  had  been  the  most 
friendly,  and  now  as  he  came  in  on  this  morning  his 
behavior  was  the  same  as  ever.  Coming  up  close  he 
slapped  Huber  and  myself  on  the  shoulder,  called  us 
his  "amigos,"  and  even  insisted  on  shaking  hands. 
Meanwhile  he  paid  no  attention  to  Arnold,  who  rose 
to  greet  him.  All  at  once  the  smile  on  his  face  died 
out,  and,  slipping  the  gun  off  his  shoulder,  he  took  it 
by  the  barrel,  and,  with  the  stock,  dealt  Arnold  a  stun- 
ning blow,  knocking  him  over  backward  on  the  cot. 
Three  or  four  times  he  repeated  this,  grinding  out 
"  bueno  "  between  his  clinched  teeth  each  time.  Then, 
once  more  shaking  hands  with  us  two,  he  left  the  cell. 
Here  was  at  least  one  of  our  enemies  who  did  not  ad- 
mire a  traitor. 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  bad  plight  regarding 
rations,  for  O'Brien,  having  been  caterer  and  cook, 

ii8 


Sounds  of  War 

took  with  him  the  two  days'  ration  money  received 
the  morning  before.  Thus  we  would  be  obliged  to  dis- 
pense with  eating  until  the  money  again  was  issued, 
another  day.  Fortunately  the  rice  for  the  whole  party 
was  left  behind,  and,  going  over  to  the  convent  to  re- 
cover our  cooking  utensils,  we  found  this  rice  and 
brought  it  with  us.  Having,  thus,  a  surplus,  we  sold 
some  for  ten  motas,  and  there  was  no  starving  this 
time. 

At  first  only  Arnold  was  allowed  outside  the  door 
to  do  the  cooking,  his  action  of  alarming  the  guard 
now  being  appreciated  for  the  first  time.  Later  he  was 
called  upstairs  for  an  examination  by  the  President,  a 
long,  lean,  cadaverous-looking  old  gentleman,  while 
one  of  us  was  allowed  to  continue  the  culinary  opera- 
tion. Arnold  now  made  good  use  of  his  tongue,  as  we 
could  hear  from  below,  running  down  the  Americans, 
and  the  three  fugitives  in  particular,  who  he  said  were 
"mucher  maler! " 

In  the  afternoon,  shortly  after  the  siesta,  we  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  three  Spaniards.  Two  of  them  I 
had  often  seen  passing  before  the  convent;  they  were 
but  prisoners  quartered  on  the  town,  but  the  third  was 
a  stranger  to  me,  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  Filipino 
captain.  Compared  to  the  natives  he  was  tall,  his 
Roman  nose  and  clear-cut  features  disclaiming  the  least 
drop  of  Malay  blood.  At  first  he  entered  into  a 
friendly  conversation  with  us  without  introducing  him- 
self, but  a  brass  tower  on  his  coat  collar,  the  insignia 
of  the  engineer  corps,  led  me  to  believe  that  we  now 
were  speaking  to  O'Brien's  benefactor.  Captain  Es- 
pina,  and  in  this  I  was  not  mistaken,  as  we  soon  learned. 

By  this  time  we  had  all  gained  sufficient  knowledge 
119 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

of  Spanish  to  keep  up  a  lame  conversation  on  common- 
place topics,  and,  seeing  that  we  understood  him,  the 
captain  seated  himself  and  commenced  to  have  a  long 
talk  with  us,  his  distinct  manner  of  enunciation  mak- 
ing him  easy  to  understand.  Soon  I  found  my  sur- 
mise verified:  he  told  us  of  his  meeting  with  O'Brien, 
and  how  he  had  interceded  with  the  Secretary  of  War 
to  have  the  Englishman's  condition  bettered.  "  On 
account  of  his  escape,"  he  continued,  "  I  could  do  but 
little  for  you  now  with  Baldomero  Aguinaldo,  but  it 
may  be  that  Mr.  Higgins,  a  personal  friend  of  mine, 
can  do  more  for  you  than  I  can,  as  his  influence  with 
President  Aguinaldo  is  very  great,  and  I  will  try  to  get 
him  interested  in  you."  We  told  him  how  apathetic 
Mr.  Higgins  had  been  to  O'Brien's  misfortune,  whom 
even  the  Secretary  of  War  admitted  was  an  English- 
man; what  assistance  could  be  expected  from  such  a 
man!  However,  we  requested  him  to  beg  Mr.  Hig- 
gins for  some  EngHsh  reading-matter,  if  he  had  any, 
something  with  which  to  pass  away  the  tedious  hours. 
This  he  promised  to  do.  "  But,"  he  said,  before  leav- 
ing, "  I  will  make  an  effort  myself  to  have  your  condi- 
tion ameliorated,  and  you  must  promise  me,  if  I  suc- 
ceed, not  to  take  advantage  of  it  to  attempt  an  escape." 
This  we  readily  promised.  Bidding  us  "  adios  "  he 
departed,  giving  us  to  understand  that  we  should  soon 
see  him  again. 

The  three  or  four  succeeding  days  were  dreary  ones 
to  us.  Arnold  and  I  never  exchanged  a  word.  He  was 
intoxicated,  most  of  the  time,  into  the  bargain;  vino 
was  given  him  for  the  asking.  Had  the  President  been 
as  liberal  with  rice  to  Huber  and  me,  we  should  not 
have  been  obliged  to  endure  the  constant  hunger  we 

1 20 


Sounds  of  War 

did.  Never  before  had  we  suffered  so  much  on  this 
score;  we  could  often  have  only  one  meal  in  the  twenty- 
four  hours.  And  then,  as  if  to  tantahze  us,  the  Presi- 
dent's son  and  his  friends  would  often  toss  pesetas  and 
pesos  before  our  eyes  in  a  game  similar  to  "  toss-up." 

One  little  incident  that  embittered  my  mind  at  that 
time  I  shall  never  forget.  I  was  outside  cooking  one 
day,  when  the  President's  wife  came  down  the  steps 
from  the  house,  and,  throwing  me  a  package  in  an  old 
La  Independencia,  cried:  "  Here,  Americano,  is  some- 
thing for  you!  Poor  little  things,  how  hungry  you 
must  be!"  On  opening,  I  found  it  contained  some 
entrails  and  heads  of  the  native  cat-fish,  such  as  many 
people  would  not  feed  to  their  dogs.  This  caused  a 
general  laugh  among  a  group  of  idlers  that  stood  about 
— the  lady's  joke  was  considered  clever!  But  when  I 
walked  up  the  stairs  and  laid  it  in  the  doorway,  saying, 
that  my  conscience  did  not  permit  me  to  eat  it,  know- 
ing how  fond  the  Sefiora  herself,  being  a  Filipina,  was 
of  such  a  dish,  her  smile  faded  into  a  snarl,  and  she 
called  me  a  name  unfit  for  publication. 

But  not  to  give  the  Filipino  women  in  general  a 
reputation  for  heartlessness,  I  will  mention  another  in- 
cident to  offset  the  behavior  of  the  President's  wife. 

An  old  woman  of  the  "  taui  "  class  came  to  the  bars 
one  day  and  slipped  in  an  ear  of  corn  and  a  few  cigars 
to  each  of  us.  When  she  saw  how  hungry  we  were, 
the  tears  rolled  down  her  withered  cheeks.  She  then 
asked  us  questions  of  the  American  soldiers — were  they 
so  bad  as  reported?  did  they  kill  their  prisoners?  etc. 
We  assured  her  that  such  accounts  were  but  baseless 
calumnies,  and  she  hoped  that  they  were  indeed  false, 
for  her  only  son,  together  with  his  whole  company, 

121 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

had  been  taken  prisoner.  What  did  we  suppose  had 
been  done  to  them?  Would  the  Americans  repeat  the 
Spanish  cruelties,  and  shoot  their  captives  on  the 
Luneta?  She  came  often  after  that,  the  old  gray- 
haired  woman,  venerable  in  spite  of  her  naked  feet  and 
stooping  shoulders,  and  seemed  to  derive  comfort  from 
our  assurances  of  her  captive  son's  humane  treatment. 

True  to  his  word,  Captain  Espina  returned  at  the 
end  of  several  days  with  an  order  for  our  reinstate- 
ment in  the  convent  during  the  day.  Every  evening 
we  were  to  return  to  the  jail  to  spend  the  night  there. 
He  had  tried  his  best  to  have  us  entirely  removed  to 
the  more  roomy  quarters  over  there,  but  his  efforts 
had  failed.  Nevertheless  I,  for  my  part,  felt  deeply 
grateful  to  him  for  what  he  had  succeeded  in  doing. 
He  had  also  seen  Higgins,  but  that  gentleman  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  us. 

On  the  succeeding  morning,  after  breakfast,  we  re- 
turned to  the  convent  with  three  policemen  as  guards. 
We  took  our  cooking  utensils  with  us,  that  we  might 
prepare  our  afternoon  meal  over  there,  but  at  sunset 
we  were  obliged  to  return  to  the  cell  under  the  presi- 
dency.   And  this  became  our  daily  routine. 

Times  now  became  dull  and  monotonous  again. 
What  had  become  of  our  three  companions  we  didn't 
know.  Some  told  us  they  had  been  killed,  others  that 
they  were  recaptured,  but,  as  the  reports  were  so 
vague,  I  believed  that  they  had  made  good  their  es- 
cape into  the  American  lines. 

A  native  lawyer  of  the  town,  Sefior  Santiago,  loaned 
us  an  old  Ollendorf's  Spanish-English  grammar,  with 
which  we  passed  away  many  a  weary  hour,  copying 
verbs,  nouns,  sentences,  and  phrases  on  the  white  walls 

122 


Sounds  of  War 

and  then  memorizing  them.  It  was  here  that  I  laid 
the  foundation  to  a  pretty  fair  knowledge  of  the  Span- 
ish language,  which  afterward  became  of  great  useful- 
ness to  me.  Occasionally  we  received  visits  from 
Mausilla  and  Santa  Maria,  the  only  two  Spanish  pris- 
oners in  the  town,  and  they  assisted  us  in  pronuncia- 
tion. 

Our  daily  life  had  now  settled  into  a  routine  that 
at  times  became  .almost  unbearable.  Often  we  would 
lean  over  the  balcony  railing  gazing  southward;  as  far 
as  we  knew,  the  American  army  had  ceased  to  exist. 
The  feeling  that  we  were  considered  dead  by  friends 
and  relatives,  and  were  unable  to  relieve  their  anxiety, 
was  highly  depressing. 

Over  the  way  from  the  balcony,  in  a  little  bamboo 
hut,  lived  an  old  couple,  Francisco  and  Joaquina.  Not- 
withstanding their  large  family  and  extreme  poverty 
they  would  often  throw  up  small  offerings,  small  to  be 
sure,  but  not  fish  entrails.  An  ear  of  corn,  a  green 
mango,  or  a  few  cigarettes  would  from  time  to  time 
come  flying  over  the  balcony  railing  as  a  grateful  token 
of  their  sympathy. 

One  day  Francisco  called  to  us  from  the  window 
of  his  abode,  asking  us  if  we  cared  to  earn  a  few  extra 
motas  by  pounding  rice.  Huber  and  I  shouted  back 
that  we  would,  most  gladly;  Arnold  shook  his  head 
but  said  nothing.  Francisco  promised  to  arrange  with 
the  proper  parties  that  night.  On  the  succeeding  day 
Francisco  appeared  shortly  after  the  siesta  with  permis- 
sion to  take  us  with  him,  our  guards  to  accompany  us, 
of  course.  He  conducted  us  down  a  street  leading  off 
from  the  plaza  and  into  an  extensive  enclosure,  where 
over  a  dozen  women  were  shelling  rice  in  large  wooden 

123 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

mortars,  by  pounding  it  with  huge  mallets  of  heavy 
mahogany.  The  superintendent,  or  owner,  an  old 
toothless  Filipino,  explained  to  us  that  for  each  mor- 
tarful  we  pounded,  a  copper  mota  would  be  placed  to 
our  credit.  Arnold  at  once  explained  that  he  was  not 
used  to  manual  labor,  but  if  they  had  any  employment 
wherein  he  could  use  his  head,  he  would  gladly  work; 
with  his  hands — never!    No,  never! 

Huber  and  I,  however,  seized  one  of  the  heavy  mal- 
lets each  and  set  to  work,  causing  the  rice  to  fly  about 
in  all  directions,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  women 
and  the  horror  of  the  owner.  It  took  us  half  an  hour 
to  finish  our  first  mortarful.  The  women  could  do 
the  same  work  in  half  that  time,  having  a  dexterous 
way  of  slinging  the  mallet,  weighing  at  least  ten 
pounds,  with  but  small  exertion.  Then  we  commenced 
on  our  second  mortar.  Arnold  was  sitting  close  by, 
giving  Huber  a  good  deal  of  advice  as  to  the  best  man- 
ner in  which  to  manipulate  the  mallet.  Soon  the 
handles  burned  in  our  hands  like  red-hot  iron  rods,  our 
arms  ached,  the  small  of  our  backs  became  weak,  and 
our  bodies  covered  with  perspiration.  We  each  fin- 
ished a  third,  but  had  my  life  depended  upon  it  I  could 
not  have  pounded  any  more.  Our  earnings  were  given 
to  us,  and  the  owner's  wife  brought  each  of  us  a  plate 
of  cooked  bananas,  very  welcome  after  that  terrible 
exertion.  Arnold  received  all  that  we  did,  and  was 
called  "  sefior  "  in  the  bargain! 

When  evening  came,  Huber  and  I  vainly  tried  to 
satisfy  our  ravenous  appetite  with  the  bananas  the  ex- 
tra three  motas  could  purchase;  but  as  we  felt  of  our 
blistered  hands  and  watched  Arnold  quietly  munching 
baked  rice  cakes,  in  which  he  had  invested  one  of  his 

124 


Sounds  of  War 

three  easily  earned  motas,  we  decided  then  and  there 
never  again  to  pound  rice  with  wooden  mallets. 

One  day  the  military  governor  of  the  local  coman- 
dancia  honored  us  with  a  visit.  Comandante  Antonio 
de  la  Pefia  was  his  name — he  wrote  it  on  the  wall.  He 
was  a  small,  very  black,  heavy-set  man  of  middle  age) 
and,  unlike  most  Filipinos,  wore  a  heavy  mustache. 
What  surprised  us  most  was  the  fluency  with  which 
he  spoke  English.  In  his  younger  days,  he  told  us, 
he  had  sailed  before  the  mast  in  British  and  American 
merchant  vessels.  Hearing  that  I  also  had  sailed  on 
the  briny  deep,  he  was  delighted  and  opened  his  heart 
toward  us  to  the  extent  of  ten  cents'  worth  of  bananas, 
for  which  he  sent  one  of  the  guards.  For  nearly  two 
hours  he  sat  conversing  with  me  of  foreign  seaports 
where  both  of  us  had  been.  Later  he  ventured  a  little 
war  news.  Fighting  was  going  on  continually,  but  as 
yet  the  Americans  had  not  gained  one  fathom  of 
ground.  As  he  further  expressed  it:  "  They  were  put- 
ting kinks  in  Uncle  Sam's  tail  and  were  well  to  wind- 
ward of  him."  In  his  mind,  there  was  not  the  least 
reason  for  doubting  that  the  Filipinos  would  eventually 
gain  their  independence;  in  fact  he  already  counted 
upon  having  command  of  one  of  the  finest  vessels  in 
the  future  Filipino  navy.  But  in  spite  of  all  these  bom- 
bastic words,  there  could  be  detected  an  air  of  doubt 
in  the  manner  they  were  expressed,  that  impressed  me 
with  the  idea  that  he  himself  had  not  the  faith  in  them 
he  professed. 

Another  visitor  that  also  made  his  appearance  dur- 
ing those  tedious  days,  and  caused  us  some  little 
amusement,  may  be  found  worthy  of  a  few  lines. 

One  afternoon  after  the  siesta,  always  the  customary 
125 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

visiting  hours  in  the  Philippines,  a  number  of  natives 
of  the  very  lowest  class  entered  and  stood  gazing  at 
us  with  open  mouths  and  eyes.  This  in  itself  was  noth- 
ing unusual,  but  when  one  of  them,  a  small,  withered 
old  man,  stepped  forward,  pulled  an  imaginary  lock  of 
hair  on  his  forehead,  a  manner  of  saluting  peculiar  to 
seafaring  people,  and  said  quite  plainly  in  English, 
"  Good-morning,"  our  attention  was  attracted.  Al- 
though surprised,  we  retained  our  presence  of  mind 
and  answered  quite  calmly  with  another  "  good-morn- 
ing." He  was  sadly  disappointed — the  effect  was  not 
stunning  enough.  Suddenly,  in  a  loud,  hoarse  voice 
of  which  a  navy  boatswain  might  have  been  envious, 
he  roared:  "Bear  a  hand  there,  stand  by  yer  topsel 
braces! "  The  effect  was  all  that  could  be  desired — 
we  were  stunned!  Then,  as  if  to  follow  up  his  ad- 
vantage, he  added  in  a  still  deeper  roar,  "  Splice  the 
main  brace!"  After  which  he  turned  around  to  his 
admiring  companions  as  if  to  say:  "  You  see,  for  me 
the  language  of  these  people  has  no  mysteries.  A 
man  of  my  learning  and  experience  knows  a  thing  or 
two."  But  it  soon  became  evident  that  he  had  just 
about  exhausted  his  whole  vocabulary,  and  was  now 
obliged  to  resort  to  a  strange  gibberish  in  which  an 
occasional  English  word  could  be  recognized.  At 
first  we  thought  he  was  addressing  us  in  Tagalog,  un- 
til we  noticed  that  the  natives  likewise  could  not  com- 
prehend him,  to  judge  by  their  blank  and  surprised 
features.  What  he  spoke  of  we  could  not  even  guess, 
but  it  probably  made  but  little  difference  to  him 
whether  we  understood  or  not,  since  he  was  making 
the  desired  impression  on  his  countrymen.  Of  course, 
we  quite  entered  into  his  little  game,  and  answered 

126 


Sounds  of  War 

back  in  real  genuine  English  to  heighten  the  effect, 
and  that  delighted  him  beyond  measure.  At  length 
we  shook  hands  and  said  "  Good-by,"  and  the  manner 
in  which  he  stepped  out  at  the  head  of  his  admirers 
showed  that  he  was  well  aware  of  the  importance  he 
had  gained  in  their  estimation. 

Bigoted  as  well  as  ignorant  as  were  most  of  the 
officers  by  whom  we  were  interviewed,  it  is  but  just 
to  mention  a  notable  exception. 

A  young  second  lieutenant  came  in  one  day  and 
greeted  us  with  some  show  of  friendliness.  I  remem- 
ber he  made  a  good  impression  on  me  at  once  by  his 
manner,  but  his  appearance  was  far  from  prepossess- 
ing. Being  unusually  black,  he  was  short  of  stature, 
thick-lipped,  and  pock-marked,  a  typical  full-blooded 
Filipino.  In  spite  of  these  physical  disadvantages,  his 
features  appeared  to  me  remarkably  intelligent  when 
he  spoke.  Accompanying  him  was  a  sergeant,  who 
carried,  slung  over  the  shoulder  by  the  strap,  an 
American  Springfield  rifle.  Seeing  that  we  looked  at 
it  with  some  curiosity,  he  gave  it  into  our  hands  to  ex- 
amine. Sure  enough,  it  certainly  was  a  United  States 
rifle.  Upon  asking  him  how  he  had  come  into  pos- 
session of  it,  he  related  the  following  story: 

"  It  was  captured  during  a  skirmish  on  the  Pasig, 
wherein  a  number  of  Americans  fell  back,  leaving  their 
dead  behind.  This  rifle  I  found  on  the  field  after  the 
fight,  and  this  belt  of  ammunition  I  took  from  one  of 
their  dead."  Then  Arnold,  either  to  curry  favor  or 
draw  him  out,  made  the  remark  that  the  superior 
courage  of  the  Filipinos  would  certainly  insure  their 
ultimate  victory  in  the  war.  "  No,"  the  lieutenant  re- 
plied, "  that  is  impossible.    Although  they  have  not 

127 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

yet  commenced  to  advance,  I  believe  our  cause  is  al- 
ready lost,  or  will  be,  ultimately.  In  two  or  three 
months  they  will  overwhelm  us  with  numbers.  Even 
now  there  are  two  American  soldiers  to  each  armed 
Filipino,  the  difference  being  all  the  greater  on  account 
of  their  superior  training  and  armament.  We  shall 
probably  be  swept  out  of  existence,  for  surrender  we 
never  will." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Arnold,  "  they  will  gain  by  mere 
superiority  of  numbers,  but  their  courage  is  of  poor 
quality." 

"  No,  again  you  are  mistaken;  the  Americans  are 
'  valientes  ' — I  admire  them  for  their  courage.  Their 
tactics  are  bolder  than  those  of  the  Spaniards.  The 
latter  take  advantage  of  every  possible  shelter,  while 
the  Americans  boldly  advance  upright,  their  bodies 
exposed.    No,  the  Americans  are  brave  men." 

Arnold  was  crestfallen,  and,  notwithstanding  his  glib 
tongue,  could  find  no  suitable  reply.  With  his  intelli- 
gence this  young  lieutenant,  had  he  but  possessed  a 
little  better  personal  appearance,  would  probably  soon 
have  risen  to  be  a  colonel  or  even  general  in  the  Insur- 
gent army,  but  often  these  high-ranked  positions  were 
bought,  directly  or  indirectly,  or  obtained  by  social 
influence,  thus  placing  intelligence  and  experience  as 
secondary  in  importance.  A  young,  ambitious  man 
would  promise  to  help  out  the  cause  with  so  many 
thousand  pesos,  and  was  at  once  made  a  colonel  or  a 
general,  and  in  some  cases  general  officers  were  not 
yet  out  of  their  teens.  These  positions  could  certainly 
not  have  been  coveted  on  account  of  fat  salaries,  for 
an  Insurgent  general's  pay  amounted  to  about  the 
same  as  an  American  sergeant's.    To  begin  with  the 

128 


Sounds  of  War 

common  soldier,  he  was  supposed  to  receive  one  and  a 
half  peso  a  month  with  rations,  but  later  on  was  sel- 
dom paid.  A  corporal  had  three  pesos  and  a  sergeant 
six.  These  non-commissioned  officers  bore  the  in- 
signia of  their  respective  ranks  on  their  sleeve,  just 
above  the  wrist,  as  do  the  Spaniards — a  corporal  two, 
and  a  sergeant  three,  stripes. 

The  rank  of  the  officers,  as  in  all  armies,  was  desig- 
nated on  their  shoulder-straps.  These  ran  lengthwise 
on  the  shoulder,  not  across  as  in  our  army.  A  second 
lieutenant  wore  three  silver  stars  on  each  shoulder,  and 
had  a  monthly  salary  of  fifteen  pesos.  A  first  lieuten- 
ant wore  two  silver  stars,  and  a  captain  one,  their  re- 
spective salaries  being  twenty  and  twenty-five  pesos. 
A  major  or  comandante's  shoulder-strap  bore  three 
gold  stars,  a  lieutenant-colonel  two,  and  a  colonel  one, 
their  salaries  increasing  five  pesos  each  step.  I  was 
told  that  a  brigadier-general  only  received  fifty  pesos 
a  month,  but  cannot  testify  to  the  truth  of  this  state- 
ment. Possibly  the  salaries  varied  according  to  their 
respective  merits  or  ability.  That  any  of  them,  includ- 
ing Luna,  the  Commander-in-Chief,  ever  drew  more 
than  fifty  American  dollars  a  month,  I  do  not  believe. 
The  civil  officials  were,  as  a  rule,  better  paid,  as  that 
lay  within  their  own  power.  These  had  excellent  op- 
portunities for  stealing,  and  did  not  allow  them  to  slip 
by,  either,  for,  as  several  told  me  afterward,  their  oppor- 
tunities might  never  come  again. 

According  to  the  general  testimony  of  intelligent 
natives  themselves,  a  Filipino  in  office  can  never  be 
honest,  the  Spaniards  having  taught  them  that  a  dis- 
honest peso  is  worth  two  gained  fairly,  and  it  will  take 
a  long  time  before  the  eflect  of  their  examples  can 

129 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

entirely  be  eliminated.  It  is  likewise  necessary  that 
those  who  in  time  will  teach  them  that  "  honesty  is  the 
best  policy  "  live  up  to  their  teachings,  but  "  there's 
the  rub." 

But  to  return  to  Santa  Isabela.  Had  it  not  been  for 
the  Spanish  grammar,  our  mental  sufferings  would  in- 
deed have  been  great,  for,  when  idle,  fearful  visions 
sometimes  arose.  I  thought  of  a  relation  of  mine  who 
long  ago  disappeared  in  the  Australian  wilds,  and  was 
found  twenty  years  later,  his  reason  gone,  nothing  but 
the  animated  clay  left.  I  did  not  believe  that  such  a 
fate  could  befall  one  here,  but  still  such  thoughts  would 
enter  my  mind  at  times. 

This  demoralizing  monotony  was  one  day  inter- 
rupted by  our  friend  and  benefactor,  Captain  Espina, 
who  came  to  pay  us  a  visit.  I  happened  to  remember 
it  was  on  March  20th.  He  remained  a  considerable 
while,  and,  after  conversing  on  various  subjects,  finally 
told  the  story  of  his  entering  the  Insurgent  service. 

Formerly,  under  the  Spanish  Government,  Sefior 
Espina  had  held  the  rank  of  "  inspector  of  mountains," 
literally  translated;  and  somewhat  similar  to  our 
timber  commissioners.  When  the  war  with  America 
broke  out,  he  was  made  an  officer  of  volunteers,  but 
when  the  Americans  entered  Manila  on  August  13th 
he  surrendered  his  arms,  and  became  once  more  a 
civilian,  having  a  family  in  the  city. 

Being  the  owner  of  vast  estates  in  the  interior,  he 
was  given  a  pass  to  Malolos  in  order  to  arrange  with 
the  Insurgent  authorities  for  the  protection  of  his 
property  from  the  depredations  of  the  mob,  but  found 
that  all  had  been  confiscated.  This  was  on  February 
3d.     The  following  night  hostilities  broke  out  and 

130 


Sounds  of  War 

Seiior  Espina  found  return  to  Manila  and  his  family 
cut  off  and  himself  penniless.  For  two  weeks  he  en- 
deavored to  exist,  but,  not  being  considered  a  prisoner, 
was  not  even  allowed  rations.  Knowing  him  to  have 
been  employed  before,  both  by  the  railroad  company 
and  also  by  the  Spanish  Government  as  a  civil  engi- 
neer, the  Insurgent  officials  approached  him  several 
times  with  the  object  of  persuading  him  to  join  their 
cause,  and  at  length,  driven  by  sheer  want,  he  accepted 
a  commission  as  captain  with  the  monthly  salary  of 
twenty-five  pesos,  the  highest  rank  to  which  a  rene- 
gade could  rise.  Only  one  Spaniard  ever  rose  above 
a  captaincy,  becoming  a  comandante  (major),  and  he 
was  related  to  Aguinaldo  by  marriage,  his  wife  being 
a  native. 

It  was  Espina  that  superintended  the  digging  of 
the  trenches  at  Caloocan,  and  later  at  Calumpit,  which 
even  our  experts  admit,  show  remarkable  scientific 
skill. 

But  he  became  most  interesting  when  he  volun- 
teered the  information  that  the  Americans  had  notified 
Aguinaldo  that  they  would  commence  to  advance  on 
Thursday,  March  24th.  The  information  was  common 
property,  but  the  embellishments  will  interest  the 
American  reader. 

All  the  European  Powers  had  combined  and  notified 
the  United  States  Government  that  it  must  take  some 
decisive  measures  to  end  the  insurrection,  otherwise 
they  would  intervene  for  the  same  reasons  that  the 
United  States  had  done  in  Cuba,  finally  expelling  the 
Spaniards.  The  Powers  had  sent  an  ultimatum  to 
McKinley,  making  it  incumbent  on  the  American 
army  to  advance  on  Malolos  by  March  24th,  which 

131 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

capital  they  must  take  by  April  ist.  This  being  done, 
the  war  might  go  on,  but  should  the  Insurgents  suc- 
cessfully defend  their  capital  until  after  that  date,  then 
combined  Europe  would  demand  the  independence  of 
the  Philippine  Islands. 

Such  was  the  news  as  Espina  had  it  from  ofificial 
sources,  and  as  he  told  it  to  us,  and  at  the  time  we 
believed  enough  of  it  to  feel  deeply  interested.  Es- 
pina seemed  somewhat  gloomy  over  the  prospect,  and 
remarked:  "  I  greatly  fear  that  we  cannot  resist  an 
American  advance  for  a  whole  week,  but,  if  the  war 
would  then  be  at  an  end,  it  might  be  for  the  best. 
The  Americans  believe  that  by  taking  Malolos  they 
conquer  the  country,  but  the  war  will  not  be  over  by 
the  end  of  this  year,  nor  the  next,  either.  Aguinaldo's 
policy  is  to  worry  the  Americans,  and  not  to  meet  them 
in  pitched  battle.  The  Filipinos  can  carry  on  a  guerilla 
warfare  in  the  mountains  for  ten  years  to  come,  and 
they  will  surely  do  so  if  the  United  States  Government 
persists  in  refusing  to  define  the  exact  degree  of  au- 
tonomy they  intend  giving  us.  Having  been  eighteen 
years  in  the  country,  and  being  married  to  a  native 
lady,  I  suppose  I  also  can  consider  myself  a  Filipino. 
If  we  were  promised  the  same  form  of  government 
that  Canada  has  under  England,  we  would,  every  one 
of  us,  lay  down  our  arms  and  become  as  loyal  to 
America  as  the  best  of  her  citizens,  for  our  leaders  are 
not  extremists;  but,  above  all,  to  insure  permanent 
peace,  the  monastic  corporations  must  be  banished,  for 
as  long  as  a  friar  treads  Philippine  soil,  so  long  will  the 
Filipino  Catholics  be  discontent." 

The  intervening  time  between  Espina's  departure 
and  next  Thursday  seemed  to  me  an  age  of  suspense. 

132 


Sounds  of  War 

The  native  prisoners  over  in  the  jail  also  had  heard  the 
report,  so  there  seemed  no  doubt  but  what  it  had  some 
foundation.  Since  the  night  of  the  4th  we  had  never 
heard  the  least  indication  of  the  struggle  going  on  to 
the  southward.  Occasionally  we  had  seen  a  red  glare 
in  the  heavens  over  where  we  thought  Manila  to  be, 
but  could  draw  no  deductions  from  that  in  our  favor. 
Sometimes  we  could  not  but  believe  that  foreign  com- 
plications hampered  our  Government  in  some  way. 

When  Thursday  morning  dawned,  our  nervous  ex- 
citement and  expectancy  was  plainly  visible  to  each 
other  in  our  behavior.  Nobody  thought  of  cooking 
breakfast,  we  were  far  too  anxious  to  hear  the  guns 
open  up.  All  day,  after  going  over  to  the  convent 
that  morning,  we  stood  out  on  the  balcony  anxiously 
listening  for  the  least  sound  that  might  float  up  on  the 
southwest  monsoon  breeze.  Once  a  door  below 
banged  several  times,  and  we  became  almost  frantic 
until  we  learned  our  mistake.  But  the  day  passed 
slowly  away,  and  not  a  sound  disturbed  the  faint  rus- 
tling of  the  bamboo  thickets  and  the  mango-trees. 
Evening  came,  and  we  returned  to  the  cell  under  the 
presidency,  believing  ourselves  victims  of  false  ru- 
mors. 

Friday  morning  again  found  us  in  the  convent,  but 
hope  had  died  out,  and  we  resumed  our  Spanish  les- 
sons inside  on  the  white  walls.  It  must  have  been 
about  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon.  Huber  was  asleep, 
and  Arnold  and  I  paced  the  floor  with  lists  of  Span- 
ish words  in  our  hands,  which  we  were  memorizing. 
We  never  spoke  to  each  other,  not  one  word  had 
passed  between  us  since  the  night  of  the  13th,  but 
now,  suddenly,  he  stood  as  if  petrified  and  shouted, 

133 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  Listen!  "  The  guards  had  rushed  out  on  the  balcony 
and  were  talking  excitedly  among  themselves.  All 
three  of  us  went  out  to  join  them,  Huber  being  awa- 
kened by  the  excitement.  For  a  moment  we  stood 
breathlessly  listening,  when  faintly  but  distinctly  came 
that  same  deep  intonation  that  we  had  heard  on  the 
night  of  the  4th,  a  low,  angry  "  b-r-r-um,"  that  thrilled 
my  whole  being.  Faint  it  was  at  first,  like  the  hum 
of  insects  on  a  bright  summer  day  in  the  meadow,  but 
we  knew  now  that  the  advance  had  really  begun. 

What  my  sensations  were  is  hard  to  describe.  At 
times  I  did  not  know  whether  hope  or  fear  was  most 
predominant.  How  it  would  affect  us  remained  to  be 
seen,  but  our  countrymen  were  really  coming;  to 
rescue  us  or  not,  the  end  of  the  week  would  tell,  for 
we  could  not  believe  that  they  would  require  a  week 
to  advance  twenty  miles.  A  crisis  was  approaching, 
that  we  knew,  either  for  good  or  bad,  and,  naturally, 
to  be  preferred  to  the  fearful  suspense  of  the  preceding 
two  months. 

All  that  day  we  remained  on  the  balcony,  even  for- 
getting to  prepare  our  scanty  meals.  Whenever  the 
firing  ceased  we  walked  about  like  caged  animals,  but 
it  was  always  resumed  again,  more  distinct  than  before. 
By  the  afternoon  we  could  plainly  distinguish  each 
separate  report.  Shortly  after  our  removal  to  the  jail 
at  sunset  the  firing  ceased,  and  we  heard  it  no  more 
that  night. 

Excitement  of  the  wildest  sort  prevailed  in  Santa 
Isabela.  Throughout  the  night  companies  of  regulars 
and  bolomen  passed  down  the  road  toward  the  front, 
singing  and  laughing  as  if  going  to  certain  victory. 

Saturday  morning  we  were  again  allowed  to  return 
134 


Sounds  of  War 

to  the  convent.  At  about  ten  the  cannonading  was  re- 
sumed, but  much  more  distinct,  that  is,  nearer  than  on 
the  preceding  day.  Small  groups  of  Spanish  prisoners 
passed  through  the  town  toward  Malolos. 

At  noon  we  were  made  to  return  to  jail  on  account 
of  the  decreased  number  of  guards,  the  bolomen  of  the 
district  being  called  together  in  the  plaza  and  marched 
off  to  the  front.  Before  leaving  the  convent  we  wrote 
our  names  on  the  wall,  knowing  we  would  never  re- 
turn, also  adding  a  few  words  giving  date  of  capture, 
condition,  etc.  Some  of  the  native  prisoners  were  now 
utilized  for  guard  duty  over  us. 

By  evening  carretones,  drawn  by  carabaos  or  water- 
bufTalos  with  tremendous  horns,  commenced  to  pass  at 
short  intervals,  going  toward  Malolos,  loaded  with 
household  furniture,  rice,  women,  and  children.  All 
night  we  heard  the  creaking  of  passing  vehicles.  Late 
in  the  afternoon  cannonading  again  ceased. 

Sunday  morning  vehicles  of  all  sorts  were  now  pass- 
ing in  great  numbers, — carretones,  carromatas,  and 
quilez,  all  heavily  laden  with  the  household  goods  of 
the  fleeing  families  trudging  alongside.  By  after- 
noon the  exodus  became  a  living  stream  of  humanity. 
Some  carried  their  goods  on  poles  after  the  manner 
of  the  Chinese,  others  on  their  heads.  Carromatas 
crashed  into  carretones,  the  drivers  swore  at  each  other, 
and  the  horns  of  carabaos  became  entangled  in  the 
wheels.  Bundles  were  dropped  and  crushed  by  heavy 
vehicles.  Women  with  dishevelled  hair  and  crying  chil- 
dren in  their  arms  plodded  beside  the  family  carreton, 
some  sobbing  quietly,  others  expressing  their  alarm 
and  grief  in  loud  shrieks.  There  were  blind  and  crip- 
pled and  old,  who  were  tossed  helplessly  about  by  the 

135 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

panic-stricken  mob,  too  frightened  to  hear  their  cries. 
Everywhere  was  terror  and  confusion. 

By  afternoon  soldiers  intermingled  with  this  fleeing 
throng,  first  in  twos  and  threes,  later  by  dozens  and 
companies.  Some  still  had  their  guns,  others  had  lost 
them  and  were  bareheaded  and  half-naked.  But,  above 
all  the  noise  and  din  of  this  confusion,  the  banging  of 
guns  and  bursting  of  shells  could  be  heard  apparently 
not  five  miles  away.  Although  this  latter  ceased  again 
at  dusk,  the  refugees  still  continued  passing,  their  num- 
bers not  perceptibly  diminishing. 

At  about  nine  o'clock  a  mob  of  bolomen  gathered 
outside  the  prison,  and  amused  themselves  by  jabbing 
their  long  knives  in  between  the  bars  at  us.  We  were 
now  alone,  the  native  prisoners  had  disappeared.  It 
was  bright  moonlight,  and  plainly  could  we  see  the 
crowd  of  half-naked  savages  outside,  the  long  blades 
of  their  bolos  flashing  in  the  yellow  light  as  they 
flourished  them  overhead.  Again  those  vicious  cries 
of  "  Muerte !  muerte !  muerte  a  los  Americanos !  " 
Then  they  tried  to  force  our  doors,  but  they  were 
strongly  bolted.  Every  moment  their  fury  increased, 
and  it  seemed  to  us  that  the  long-dreaded  climax  had 
arrived. 

But  just  then,  in  the  veriest  heat  of  the  excitement, 
we  heard  the  trampling  of  horses'  hoofs  outside,  and 
the  next  moment  a  mounted  officer  dashed  into  the 
midst  of  the  turbulent  mob,  laying  about  him  with  a 
heavy  riding  whip,  and  thundering  out  oaths  in  Span- 
ish and  Tagalog.  We  could  hear  that  whip  whizzing 
through  the  air,  followed  by  cries  of  pain.  In  two 
minutes  the  horseman  was  alone,  glaring  about  him 
as  if  seeking  more  victims.    Approaching  the  bars,  he 

136 


Sounds  of  War 

shouted  to  us:  "All  right;  I  told 'em;  they  not  trouble 
you  again !  "  It  was  Peiia,  the  comandante  or  military 
governor  of  the  district.  We  admired  his  style  of  tell- 
ing them.  "  Plenty  fight  now,"  he  continued,  coming 
up  close  to  the  bars  and  speaking  in  a  loud  whisper. 
"  The  Americans  is  advancing,  but  not  possible  can 
come  here.  I'm  going  down  to  the  fight  with  my  men! 
I  knock  seven  bells  out  of  de  damn  Yankees.  I  keel- 
haul 'em  all.  We  not  possible  can  be  licked !  "  Then  he 
turned  his  horse  as  if  to  depart,  but  once  more  lower- 
ing his  head  to  the  bars,  he  added,  doubtfully:  "  I  doan 
know,  mebbe  I  mistake — good-by!  "  and,  digging  his 
spurs  into  the  horse's  flanks,  he  galloped  ofif  toward  the 
south,  to  fall  the  next  day,  as  I  was  informed  after- 
ward, before  the  deadly  fire  of  the  American  rifles 
while  leading  a  hopeless  charge  against  the  "  damn 
Yankees  "  that  he  wanted  to  "  keelhaul."  But  worse 
men  than  he  fell  that  day!  It  must  have  been  about 
midnight  when  I  dropped  off  to  sleep,  and  by  that  time 
the  creaking  of  vehicles  and  shouts  of  refugees  had 
considerably  diminished. 

Upon  awakening  in  the  morning  not  a  sound  broke 
the  unnatural  stillness,  not  even  the  usual  cock's  crow, 
to  which  we  were  so  accustomed.  At  eight  or  there- 
abouts our  doors  were  opened  and  we  were  allowed 
to  go  outside  for  the  purpose  of  cooking  breakfast, 
but  what  a  change!  Every  hut  within  our  sight  ap- 
peared to  be  deserted,  except  the  presidency  upstairs. 
Not  a  dog  nor  cat  to  be  seen,  everything  appeared 
dead.  With  the  exception  of  the  President  and  his 
family,  and  our  few  guards,  the  entire  population  of 
Santa  Isabela  seemed  to  have  fled,  and  even  now  two 
carretones  stood  before  the  door,  being  loaded  with  the 

137 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

furniture  of  the  rooms  above.  The  road  which  but 
yesterday  had  been  the  scene  of  so  much  commotion, 
was  now  again  deserted. 

But  what  would  now  become  of  us?  Should  we  be 
permitted  to  remain  to  welcome  the  advancing  troops? 
Should  we  be  forgotten  in  the  excitement?  Our  hopes 
rose.  Any  moment  we  might  now  expect  to  see  the 
last  remnants  of  the  Filipino  army  retreating  through 
the  town  with  the  pursuing  Americans  on  their  heels. 
If  we  could  only  have  hidden,  but  we  were  helplessly 
caged  up  in  that  stone  jail.  We  were,  however,  not  to 
remain  in  doubt  much  longer. 

While  we  were  eating  our  scanty  breakfast  of  salt- 
less  rice,  the  President  entered  and  motioned  to  us  to 
come  out.  We  followed  him  outside,  where  we  found 
a  squad  of  regular  soldiers,  and  to  these  the  President 
gave  us  in  charge.  Ten  minutes  later  we  were  tramp- 
ing up  the  Malolos  road. 

We  had  barely  left  Santa  Isabela  when  the  firing 
recommenced,  but  in  such  close  proximity  that  the 
shells  seemed  actually  to  burst  overhead.  Intermin- 
gling with  the  roar  of  the  cannonade  we  distinctly 
heard  the  volley  firing  and  the  rattling  of  the  rapid-fire 
guns.  Every  house  on  the  road  was  deserted,  not  an 
animal  remained.  Nobody  now  to  shout  "  Mucho 
malo  Americanos! "  as  they  did  when  we  came  down. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  church  towers  of  the  capital 
appeared  above  the  intervening  bamboo  thickets,  and 
soon  we  entered  the  town — but  what  a  scene  presented 
itself!  We  had  seen  panic  and  confusion  the  day  be- 
fore, but  that  couldn't  be  compared  to  what  we  ob- 
served now.  Men,  women,  and  children  thronged  the 
main  thoroughfare  in  one  compact,  screaming  mob, 

138 


Sounds  of  War 

stricken  with  a  terror  that  seemed  to  have  bereft  them 
of  all  reason.  They  all  ran  into  one  another.  Ofiftcers 
shouted  orders  and  soldiers  shouted  back,  nobody 
obeyed. 

Fighting  our  way  through  this  terror-stricken  mob 
for  us,  the  guards  at  length  turned  down  the  old 
familiar  street  on  which  fronted  the  "  Gobierno  Mili- 
tar."  We  had  just  passed  the  convent,  and  the  red- 
trousered  guards  were  frantically  exerting  themselves 
in  throwing  the  President's  furniture  into  vehicles, 
which,  as  soon  as  loaded,  tore  across  the  crowded  plaza 
and  over  the  bridge  out  on  the  northward  road,  black 
with  people  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

A  few  minutes'  walk  now  found  us  before  the 
"  Gobierno  Militar  "  building,  the  same  old  familiar 
mass  of  gray  stones.  Again  those  old  wooden  doors 
swung  open.  Everything  was  as  we  had  left  it.  We 
were  roughly  shoved  in,  the  darkness  blinding  our  eyes 
for  the  moment,  but,  suddenly,  there  arose  a  loud 
shout,  old  familiar  voices,  and  Huber  and  I  were  shak- 
ing hands  with  Bruce,  Honey  man,  and  O'Brien. 


139 


CHAPTER   X 

WITH  THE  RETREAT 

Narrative  of  the  recaptured  trio — An  American  searchlight — 
The  dead  march — Return  to  Malolos — We  join  the  retreat 
— The  firing  line  in  view — Quingua — Baliuag — Sigue!  sigue! 
San  Rafael — A  Spanish  woman — San  Ildefonso — Overload- 
ing our  stomachs — San  Miguel  de  Mayumo — Ramon  Rey — 
Our  arrival  at  San  Isidro,  and  our  reception. 

OF  course,  the  recaptured  three  were  less  sur- 
prised at  this  meeting  than  we  were — they 
had  expected  us  for  several  days.  I  had  men- 
tally decided  that  they  had  effected  their  escape,  since 
nothing  but  vague  rumors  concerning  their  fate  had 
reached  us,  but  here  they  were,  sure  enough.  As  my 
eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  I  was  shocked 
to  notice  the  change  for  the  worse  in  their  appearance; 
their  sunken  eyes,  sallow  complexion,  and  emaciated 
condition  told  a  tale  of  suffering.  But  a  glance  at  the 
surroundings  explained  all.  The  cell  was  in  the  same 
condition  as  during  Donato's  regime,  and  for  the 
last  week  had  contained  never  less  than  thirty  occu- 
pants. It  had  not  been  possible  to  lie  down  in  all  that 
time — there  was  no  room  in  that  hole  for  such  a  crowd 
to  stretch  themselves  on  the  floor  at  once.  What 
sleep  was  had  could  only  be  obtained  by  sitting  and 
leaning  up  against  each  other. 

In  very  short  time  we  had  exchanged  accounts  of 
140 


With  the  Retreat 

our  respective  experiences,  but  theirs  had  been  more 
eventful  than  ours. 

After  leaping  from  the  balcony  on  that  eventful 
night  of  the  13th,  they  had  heard  Arnold's  outcry  of 
alarm,  and,  rushing  blindly  down  the  road,  found  them- 
selves on  the  railroad  track.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances the  plan  had  been  to  follow  this  as  a  sure  guide 
in  the  right  direction,  but  having  heard  the  alarm 
raised,  they  feared  pursuit,  the  more  so  as  Arnold  be- 
ing familiar  with  the  old  idea  of  following  the  rails, 
might  divulge  this  to  the  President,  who  then  would 
send  a  party  to  cut  them  ofif;  so,  instead  of  adopting 
the  old  line  of  action,  they  dashed  across  the  railroad 
embankment  into  the  jungle  and  rice-paddies  beyond. 
The  night  being  dark,  they,  of  course,  lost  their  bear- 
ings, and,  after  stumbling  about  for  two  hours  in 
ditches  and  swamps  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  regain  the 
track,  they  soon  realized  that  what  one  considered 
north  another  felt  certain  was  south,  while  the  third 
declared  it  to  be  east.  Allowing  Bruce  to  take  the 
lead,  they  plodded  on  as  best  they  could,  crossing 
creeks  and  carabao  wallows,  until  about  midnight, 
when,  exhausted  and  discouraged,  they  sank  to  the 
ground  to  confer.  For  some  time  all  were  silent,  none 
having  the  heart  to  make  a  suggestion,  when  they  be- 
came almost  blinded  by  a  flash  of  brilliant  light  across 
the  sky.  Springing  to  their  feet,  the  three  fugitives 
recognized  the  rays  of  a  searchlight  from  the  American 
war  vessels  in  Manila  Bay,  and,  following  the  direction 
whence  it  shot  up  on  the  horizon,  they  again  trudged 
hopefully  on,  knowing  that  should  it  remain  stationary 
for  a  little  while,  it  would  eventually  guide  them  to  the 
railroad  track.     Had  the  officer  in  charge  of  that 

141 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

searchlight,  walking  comfortably  up  and  down  the  ves- 
sel's bridge,  known  what  use  his  light  was  put  to  by 
those  three  despairing  fugitives,  he  might  have  left  it 
in  that  position  all  night,  but  as  he  could  not  possibly 
surmise  such  a  thing,  the  light  was  turned  away  and 
once  more  the  trio  found  themselves  in  almost  total 
darkness.  Fortunately  they  had  not  wandered  so  far 
from  the  track  as  they  feared,  and,  accidentally  starting 
in  the  right  direction,  they  soon  found  it,  but  almost  in 
the  same  spot  where  they  had  crossed  it  four  hours 
previously.  With  renewed  hope  and  strength  they  set 
off  at  a  smart  pace  along  the  guiding  rails,  pushing 
desperately  on,  regardless  of  the  stations  through 
which  they  passed,  unheeding  the  danger  of  being 
challenged  by  sentries  by  so  doing.  The  sky  was  com- 
mencing to  lighten  over  the  mountains  to  the  east- 
ward, when  they  reached  a  large  river,  and,  turning 
off  here,  hid  in  a  clump  of  bushes  on  the  banks,  intend- 
ing to  continue  the  flight  the  following  night.  Day- 
light came,  and  with  it  a  drizzling  rain.  Toward  noon 
a  small  herd  of  carabao  came  down  to  wallow  in  the 
mud,  but,  seeing  the  three  men  in  the  brush,  stood 
about  snifBng  the  air  and  staring  in  a  manner  that 
seems  indigenous  to  the  country,  with  people  and  ani- 
mals alike.  In  no  way  could  they  scare  the  stupid  ani- 
mals off,  and,  his  curiosity  excited  by  their  suspicious 
manner,  a  small  boy  came  down  to  inquire  into  the 
cause  of  it.  Discovering  the  three  fugitives  in  the 
bushes,  the  lad  ran  back  to  the  village  close  by  and 
raised  the  alarm.  In  a  few  minutes  they  were  sur- 
rounded by  natives,  who,  seizing  them,  bound  their 
arms  behind  their  backs  and  dragged  them  up  into 
town,  which  proved  to  be  Bocave.    The  unfortunate 

142 


With  the  Retreat 

captives  were  placed  on  exhibition  in  the  convent 
windows  while  a  brass  band  played  martial  music,  and 
the  church  bells  tolled  the  news  of  their  capture 
throughout  the  adjacent  country.  Work  was  aban- 
doned and  the  day  given  over  to  a  "  fiesta,"  for  now 
the  Government's  great  treasure  was  safe  again. 

That  same  afternoon  they  left  Bocave  in  great  state 
preceded  by  a  brass  band,  keeping  step  to  the  slow 
time  of  a  dead  march.  On  each  side  of  them  marched 
a  file  of  soldiers  with  Mausers  and  fixed  bayonets,  two 
black'-robed  priests  bringing  up  the  rear.  There  are 
occasions  when  music  is  not  cheering,  and  this  was 
one  of  them.  Imagine  the  feelings  of  these  three  men, 
finding  themselves  in  the  midst  of  such  a  suggestive 
procession,  their  arms  bound  behind  their  backs  above 
the  elbows! 

This  proved  to  be  nothing  more,  however,  than  a 
merry  joke  on  the  Bocave  President's  part,  he  seem- 
ing of  a  sort  of  humorous  turn  of  mind.  Two  kilo- 
metres outside  of  town  the  band  and  priests  returned, 
leaving  the  prisoners  to  proceed  with  the  guards  as 
far  as  Bulacan,  where  they  slept  that  night.  Next  day 
they  continued  their  march  to  Malolos,  arriving  in  the 
afternoon  at  the  old  "  Gobierno  Militar,"  where  they 
found  Cigarettes,  Squint-Eye,  and  all  the  rest  to  wel- 
come them.  Betel-Nuts,  the  badly  abused,  had  joined 
the  army! 

We  were  still  conversing  when  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard  appeared  and  ordered  us  to  fall  into  line  outside 
in  the  passage.  This  did  not  take  us  by  surprise,  for 
Bruce  had  told  us  what  they  had  known  for  several 
days,  viz.,  we  were  to  be  taken  along  on  the  retreat. 

Picking  up  our  few  cooking  utensils  (for  they  were 
143 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

really  too  valuable  to  be  left  behind),  we  filed  out  on 
the  street,  where  we  found  a  column  of  about  fifty  Span- 
iards waiting  for  us  to  join  them.  We  six  were  placed 
at  the  head,  completely  surrounded  by  guards,  and  then 
the  officer  in  command  gave  the  order,  "  Sigue !  "  and 
we  "  signed  "  accordingly.  The  streets  were  now  al- 
most deserted,  and,  entering  the  plaza,  we  turned  to 
the  north,  over  a  stone  bridge  and  out  on  the  road, 
which  for  miles  ahead  was  black  with  the  rear  of  the 
retreating  population. 

Once  clear  of  the  town  we  came  out  on  a  broad 
stretch  of  bare  rice-fields,  and,  far  off  in  the  distance, 
to  our  right,  we  saw  the  smoke  of  the  two  firing  lines. 
In  several  places  black  columns  of  dense  smoke  arose 
where  buildings  were  burning,  set  afire  by  the  retreat- 
ing Filipino  soldiers.  Fighting  seemed  to  be  going  on 
less  than  two  miles  away,  and,  seeing  this,  our  guards 
became  almost  frantic  in  their  efforts  to  drive  us  along 
at  a  double-quick  pace.  The  Spaniards,  notwithstand- 
ing their  sickly  condition,  flew  helter-skelter  up  the 
road,  urged  by  sharp  pricks  of  the  Remington  bayo- 
nets, but  in  spite  of  blows  and  threats  we  would  not 
do  more  than  walk.  O'Brien  suggested  that  we  lag 
behind  as  much  as  possible,  and,  though  we  suffered 
for  it,  we  gradually  found  ourselves  far  to  the  rear  of 
the  rest.  Huber  and  Arnold  had  gone  ahead  with  the 
Spaniards,  so  we  numbered  but  four,  but  for  each  one 
of  us  there  were  two  well-armed  guards,  and  the  hope 
of  being  able  to  take  advantage  of  the  proximity  of 
the  American  troops  finally  vanished  in  thin  air.  Hon- 
eyman  and  O'Brien  were  the  last  pair,  and  blow  after 
blow  from  the  stock  of  the  enraged  sergeant's  gun 
rained  on  their  backs,  but  doggedly  they  refused  to 

144 


With  the  Retreat 

accelerate  their  steps.  Bruce  and  I  also  came  in  for 
a  good  share. 

At  last  we  entered  a  heavy  thicket  of  bamboos,  the 
road  at  the  same  time  taking  a  more  northerly  turn, 
thus  hiding  the  firing  line  from  view.  This  had  a  quiet- 
ing effect  on  the  soldiers,  who  recovered  their  com- 
posure somewhat,  and  from  then  on  we  had  nothing 
worse  than  Tagalog  curses  heaped  upon  us. 

In  two  hours  we  reached  a  small  town  where  we 
found  Arnold,  Huber,  and  the  Spaniards  resting,  the 
two  former  in  a  cell  under  the  convent,  where  we 
joined  them.  In  this  place,  Quingua,  as  the  Span- 
iards called  it,  we  remained  until  shortly  before  sunset, 
when  the  march  of  the  prisoners  was  resumed.  They 
now  bound  us  together  in  pairs,  arm  to  arm,  with 
rattan  cords,  evidently  fearing  that  we  might  make  a 
break  for  liberty  under  cover  of  darkness. 

For  about  four  long  weary  hours  we  tramped  the 
dusty  road,  when  we  reached  the  bank  of  a  rather 
wide  river,  on  the  other  side  of  which  could  be  seen 
by  the  bright  moonlight  the  stately  "  convento  "  of 
another  town.  Thirty  at  a  time  were  ferried  across 
on  a  large  bamboo  raft,  which  with  soldiers,  Spaniards, 
and  ourselves  made  three  trips.  This  was  the  town 
of  Baliuag,  and  here  the  rest  for  the  night  was  to  be 
made.  We  Americans  were  taken  into  the  convent, 
and  at  once  confined  in  a  cell  under  the  main  stair- 
case, miserably  small,  and  the  presence  of  two  canvas 
litters  daubed  with  clotted  blood  did  not  add  to  the 
attractions  of  this  hole.  But,  being  tired  out,  we  were 
soon  fast  asleep. 

Early  in  the  morning,  the  day  hardly  breaking,  our 
slumbers  were  brought  to  an  abrupt  termination  by  a 

145 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

number  of  pebbles  striking  against  our  bodies.  As 
many  black  faces  as  could  conveniently  crowd  into  the 
space  of  the  window,  were  glaring  at  us  through  the 
iron  bars,  waiting  to  see  what  efifect  the  stone  throw- 
ing would  have  on  us.  As  we  did  not  fly  at  them  and 
attempt  to  bite  the  iron  bars  in  two,  their  disappoint- 
ment became  evident,  and  sticks  were  brought  into 
use  in  the  hope  of  awakening  our  dormant  ferocity. 
Later  the  doors  were  opened  and  the  populace  were 
allowed  to  file  by  to  see  us,  the  sergeant  of  the  guard 
acting  as  master  of  ceremonies. 

At  about  eight  o'clock  we  were  formed  in  marching 
order,  but  not  bound.  The  Spaniards  formed  just 
ahead  of  us,  and  then  at  the  word  "  sigue  "  (pro- 
nounced "seegay,"  from  "siguir,"  to  follow,  here  mean- 
ing "  hurry  up,"  "  get,"  etc.)  the  retreat  was  resumed. 
Many  of  the  poor  "  cazadores,"  as  the  Spanish  sol- 
diers were  generally  called,  were  now  in  a  deplorable 
condition,  but  the  guards  formed  in  a  line  across  the 
road  behind  them,  prodding  up  the  stragglers  with 
their  bayonets,  meanwhile  shouting  at  the  top  of  their 
voice :  "  Sigue,  sigue,  sigue !  "  That  word  I  shall 
never  forget.  The  Spanish  drover  makes  use  of  it  in 
driving  his  stock  to  market,  and  now  it  was  applied 
to  us. 

One  Spaniard,  unable  to  proceed  farther,  dropped 
to  the  ground.  A  guard  kicked  and  poked  him,  but 
the  man  lay  there,  apparently  dead.  For  a  moment  I 
thought  that  the  raised  bayonet  would  descend  and 
end  his  sufferings,  but,  giving  him  a  last  kick,  the 
guard  stepped  over  him  and  went  on.  What  became 
of  this  poor  unfortunate  I  never  learned — never  did  I 
see  him  again. 

146 


With  the  Retreat 

My  heart  sank  within  me  when  I  observed  that  our 
line  of  march  seemed  to  lead  toward  the  mountains. 
We  had  been  dreading  this.  At  noon  we  entered  a 
town  called  San  Rafael,  and,  as  usual,  were  confined 
in  the  convent.  Here  Arnold  and  myself  had  our  coats 
stolen,  although  mine  was  later  returned,  minus  the 
contents  of  its  pockets,  a  few  much-needed  copper 
motas. 

At  about  four  the  march  was  resumed,  and  glad  we 
were  to  leave  this  inhospitable  place,  where  they  tore 
the  rags  from  the  backs  of  helpless  prisoners.  To  our 
relief  the  road  took  a  more  northerly  turn,  keeping 
parallel  with  the  foot-hills.  The  country  now  became 
wilder  and  more  rugged,  vehicles  being  useless  in 
places.  The  Spaniards  had  a  woman  with  them,  a 
pure-blooded  Castilian,  wife  to  one  of  the  ofificers,  and 
she  was  now  obliged  to  tread  the  rocky  road  with  her 
delicate  feet.  Her  husband  tried  to  carry  her,  but 
she  would  not  consent,  and  I  much  doubt  if  he,  or 
any  of  the  prisoners  there,  for  that  matter,  could  have 
accomplished  it. 

Late  that  night  we  hobbled  into  a  town  whereof  the 
convent  had  fortunately  been  burnt  down,  so  there 
were  no  cells  in  which  to  confine  us.  We  were  allowed 
to  sleep  with  the  Spaniards  in  a  bamboo  enclosure 
shared  with  us  by  a  few  pigs,  whose  domains  we  thus 
usurped,  and  who  resented  our  intrusion  with  angry 
grunts. 

Since  leaving  Malolos  we  had  eaten  nothing.  The 
Spaniards,  not  being  restricted  on  reaching  towns, 
could  do  some  foraging,  but,  as  we  were  closely  con- 
fined, we  were  obliged  to  depend  on  our  captors.  At 
all  our  appeals  for  food  we  had  been  told  to  wait  until 

147. 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  end  of  our  march.  As  the  general  impression 
seemed  to  be  that  this  might  take  a  month  yet,  if  the 
Americans  continued  to  advance,  we  found  no  com- 
fort in  the  assurances  that  our  hunger  would  be  as- 
suaged upon  reaching  our  destination.  In  this  town, 
San  Ildefonso,  we  each  received  a  dried  fish  and  as 
much  rice  as  we  could  grab  out  of  a  pot  with  one  hand. 
How  diminutive  that  fish  and  how  genteelly  small  our 
fists  on  that  occasion!  Yet,  when  we  afterward  com- 
plained of  hunger,  our  Insurgeat  officers  would  ex- 
claim: "What?  Did  you  not  dine  sumptuously  in 
San  Ildefonso?  Would  you  unfit  yourselves  for  the 
march  by  overloading  your  stomachs?  " 

We  spent  the  forenoon  of  the  next  day  in  stand- 
ing in  the  road  under  a  broiling  sun,  several  Filipino 
officers  sitting  on  the  veranda  of  the  President's  house 
in  reclining  cane  chairs,  smoking  and  maybe  speculat- 
ing how  many  more  of  the  poor  Spaniards  would  suc- 
cumb to  those  pitiless  rays,  as  so  many  already  had 
done.  The  prostrate  forms  were  dragged  by  their 
comrades  into  the  shade  under  the  house,  where  they 
lay  until  either  their  senses  returned  or  perhaps  were 
extinguished  forever.  I  missed  several  familiar  faces 
afterward. 

At  noon  the  President  gave  orders  for  the  continu- 
ance of  our  march,  and,  after  being  stoned  by  a  mob 
until  a  mile  outside  of  town,  we  found  ourselves  on  the 
northward-bound  winding  road  once  more,  which  lay 
entirely  through  an  open  plain,  with  not  a  thicket  or 
even  a  tree  to  give  shelter  from  that  scathing  trop- 
ical sun.  It  was  hard  to  believe  that  those  ragged, 
dirty,  limping,  and  hopeless  figures,  marching  with 
heavy,  halting  steps  beside  me,  were  only  a  year 

148 


With  the  Retreat 

before  the  spruce  and  orderly  soldiers  of  proud  old 
Spain. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  entered  the  town  of  San 
Miguel  de  Mayumo,  and,  escorted  by  what  seemed  to 
us  a  million  of  natives,  entered  the  plaza,  where  we 
stood  on  exhibition  beneath  a  life-size  representation 
of  the  "  Last  Supper,"  the  latter  on  a  wheeled  plat- 
form, it  being  some  of  the  church  paraphernalia,  used 
in  their  religious  processions.  Why  they  in  any  man- 
ner should  connect  us  with  this  is  hard  to  say,  but 
as  I  gazed  on  the  silken  robes  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples 
I  wondered  if,  had  he  been  alive,  he  would  have  ap- 
proved of  what  he  saw.  But  the  native  priests,  who 
gathered  around  to  feast  their  eyes  on  our  condition, 
apparently  did,  since, their  glances  held  nothing  but 
hate! 

The  Spaniards  had  dispersed  in  various  directions 
to  beg  food  from  the  inhabitants.  At  sunset  we  were 
conducted  to  the  public  prison  in  the  plaza,  where 
many  of  the  Spaniards  also  were  quartered  for  the 
night.  Here  our  bad  fortune  seemed  to  leave  us  for 
a  while,  for  an  old  Spanish  resident  of  the  town,  whom 
we  afterward  knew  as  Ramon  Rey,  gave  us  two 
chickens,  rice,  meat,  bananas,  cigars,  and  a  bottle  of 
real  old  whiskey,  besides  cheering  words.  Another,  a 
former  Spanish  officer,  who  declined  to  give  his  name, 
gave  us  two  pesos  to  be  divided  among  us.  Ramon 
Rey  enjoyed  some  privileges,  being  married  to  a  native 
woman  and  having  lived  thirty  years  in  the  country; 
yet  he,  too,  had  suffered  imprisonment  in  former  times. 
He  informed  us  that  Aguinaldo  had  arrived  in  town 
that  morning,  and  a  meeting  had  been  held  in  the  con- 
vent, the  object  of  which  was  to  decide  upon  what 

149 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

terms  to  negotiate  a  surrender  to  the  Americans. 
Aguinaldo  had  been  in  favor  of  surrendering  on  the 
best  possible  terms,  but  Luna  was  for  concentrating 
the  whole  Filipino  force  for  the  delivery  of  one  decisive 
battle.  All  this  we  were  told  by  Ramon  Rey,  whose 
native  wife  had  learned  it  from  one  of  the  servants 
claiming  to  have  been  present  at  the  conference  held 
at  the  presidency,  and  naturally  imparted  her  informa- 
tion to  her  husband.  Aguinaldo  was  still  in  town,  we 
were  told.  We  had  seen  his  private  carriage,  drawn 
by  four  handsome  black  horses,  pass  us  on  the  road, 
but  the  President  was  not  inside,  only  two  women  with 
a  child,  his  wife,  mother,  and  son,  the  Spaniards  in- 
formed us. 

We  had  the  honor  of  sleeping  in  the  same  stable  with 
those  four  black  horses  that  same  night,  as  we  were 
considered  more  secure  there,  but  we  were  now  in 
excellent  spirits,  as  the  Spaniards  had  informed  us  that 
several  regiments  of  cavalry  had  landed  at  Dagupan, 
thus  cutting  off  the  Insurgents'  retreat  to  the  northern 
provinces.  This  seemed  so  reasonable  that  we  implic- 
itly believed  it,  especially  as  we  had  read  a  month 
before  in  La  Independencia  that  American  war-ships 
threatened  that  town. 

When  morning  dawned,  almost  the  first  sound  to 
reach  our  ears  was  the  cannonading  to  the  southward. 
After  a  good  breakfast  we  were  lined  up  in  the  plaza 
to  continue  our  march  for  San  Isidro,  which  we  now 
learned  was  to  be  our  destination  for  the  present,  at 
least,  the  new  capital  having  been  established  there. 
The  Spaniards  able  to  walk  were  now  reduced  to  thirty, 
the  rest  having  fallen  by  the  wayside  and  then  disap- 
peared.   To  our  surprise  we  were  allowed  to  depart  in 

150 


With  the  Retreat 

peace.  No  mob  accompanied  us  for  miles  out  of  town, 
stoning  us,  as  had  been  done  in  the  other  places. 

As  we  came  out  on  the  broad  rice-fields  again  we  ob- 
served far  to  the  southward  a  dense  column  of  smoke 
rising,  too  voluminous  for  one  house,  which  the  Span- 
iards declared  to  be  Quingua  in  flames,  and  a  few  of 
them,  bolder  than  the  rest,  cheered  a  "  Viva!  viva  los 
Americanos! " 

Throughout  the  entire  day  it  was  tramp,  tramp, 
tramp!  over  roads  smothering  us  with  dust.  Since 
leaving  Malolos  we  had  evidently  followed  a  semicir- 
cular course,  for  during  the  whole  march  we  had  on 
our  left  a  solitary  sugar-loaf  mountain,  always  about 
the  same  distance  off,  and  always  "  on  our  port  beam," 
to  use  a  nautical  phrase.  Since  then  I  have  learned  its 
name  to  be  Arryat,  but  we  continued  to  call  it  the 
Lone  Mountain. 

Toward  evening  we  reached  the  outskirts  of  San 
Isidro,  where  a  delegation  of  several  thousand  natives 
turned  out  to  meet  us.  Our  reception  here  was  the 
most  furious  we  had  ever  been  subjected  to — several 
of  us  were  even  slightly  wounded  by  bolos,  and,  had 
the  guards  not  been  re-enforced  by  the  local  police,  I 
do  sincerely  believe  our  travels  and  adventures  in  the 
Philippines  would  have  come  to  an  end  then  and  there. 
We  were  at  length  dragged  in  through  the  gates  of  an 
extensive  brick  building,  and  as  they  closed  behind  us, 
leaving  the  furious  rabble  beating  on  them  outside,  we 
experienced  a  great  relief. 

Experiences  like  the  foregoing  are  too  apt  to  gen- 
erate prejudices  even  in  an  otherwise  well-balanced  and 
unbiassed  mind,  and  I  believe  that  on  this  particular 
evening  we  would  have  given  our  consent  to  any  prop- 

151 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

osition  for  the  extermination  of  the  whole  Filipino 
people,  regardless  of  age,  sex,  or  tribe! 

The  guards  themselves  were  not  inclined  to  be  gen- 
tle, but  threw  us  into  a  cell  with  small  ceremony.  Our 
new  quarters  were  capacious,  we  had  sufficient  food 
and  money  to  keep  us  from  starvation  for  a  week,  and, 
above  all,  our  troops  were  advancing  up  through  the 
country,  with  the  retreat  of  the  Insurgents  cut  off  at 
Dagupan.  No  wonder  we  were  in  high  spirits.  A 
good  supper  of  one  of  Ramon  Rey's  chickens,  rice, 
bananas,  and  tea,  cooked  outside  the  cell,  added  to  our 
satisfactory  state  of  mind.  Why  should  we  be  saving 
with  our  provisions?  In  two  weeks  we  should  be  free, 
for  were  not  the  advancing  Americans  driving  back 
our  captors  until  they  would  be  only  too  glad  to  accept 
an  unconditional  surrender?  So  sure  were  we  of  all  this 
and  our  speedy  prospective  liberation,  that  in  our  ex- 
uberant state  of  mind  we  indulged  in  a  song,  the  words 
of  which  seemed  so  appropriate  to  our  condition,  and 
were  probably  never  sung  with  more  feeling  and  true 
appreciation  of  their  encouraging  spirit  than  on  this 
particular  night  under  the  old  tile  roof  of  the  San 
Isidro  Prison.  It  was  "  In  the  prison  cell  I  sit,"  with 
the  chorus: 

"  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the  boys  are  marching! 
Cheer  up,  comrades,  they  will  come. 

And  beneath  the  starry  flag  we  shall  breathe  the  air  again 
Of  the  freedom  in  our  own  beloved  home!" 

How  the  chorus  of  this  inspiring  war-song  was  re- 
peated over  and  over  again  in  this  old  Spanish  prison, 
where  in  all  probability  words  of  freedom  had  never 
before  found  voice  but  in  low  whispers! 

152 


CHAPTER  XI 
SAN  ISIDRO 

The  phantom  army  at  Dagupan — The  Macabebes,  and  their 
hatred  of  the  Tagalogs — Singing  for  alms — "  John  Brown's 
Body,"  a  hundred  voices  strong — David  Arnold,  diplomat 
and  preacher — An  old  shipmate — The  friars — A  new  recruit 
— News  from  the  American  lines. 

FEELING  as  certain  as  we  did  of  the  Americans 
blocking  any  further  retreat  at  Dagupan,  we 
were  not  surprised  at  not  being  obliged  to 
march  next  morning.  We  did  not  hear  the  guns  that 
day,  but  this  was  easily  accounted  for  by  the  Spaniards 
who  reported  that  Aguinaldo  and  his  staf¥  had  met 
the  Americans  at  Quingua,  arranging  for  a  conference, 
which  was  granted.  An  armistice  of  fifteen  days  was 
declared,  at  the  end  of  which  time  the  Insurgent  lead- 
ers were  to  give  a  decisive  answer.  All  this  the  Span- 
iards told  us,  and  we  believed  it. 

What  seemed  most  significant,  however,  was  the 
sudden  change  in  the  conduct  toward  us  of  the  prison 
officials  and  guards.  Although  the  night  before  they 
had  treated  us  with  but  little  ceremony,  they  were 
now  almost  respectful.  The  "  alcaide,"  or  prison  gov- 
ernor, paid  us  an  early  visit  and  anxiously  inquired  if 
we  were  comfortable,  but  we  received  his  attentions 
somewhat  haughtily — we  now  thought  we  could  af- 
ford to. 
San  Isidro  is  not  a  small  town,  and  was  always  the 
153 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

capital  of  Nueva  Ecija,  one  of  the  largest  provinces  of 
Luzon;  we  were  no  longer  in  Bulacan,  in  which  prov- 
ince Malolos,  Santa  Isabela,  etc.,  are  situated.  From 
our  only  window,  which  overlooked  the  plaza,  we  ob- 
served that  the  streets  were  thronged  with  Spanish 
prisoners.  Many  of  them  came  into  the  prison  to  visit 
us,  making  us  presents  of  cigars  and  fruit,  and  even 
offering  us  money.  The  latter  we  did  not  feel  justified 
in  accepting,  for  they  evidently  were  not  aware  of  the 
gifts  of  money  and  food  which  had  been  made  us  by 
Ramon  Rey  and  the  Spanish  officer  in  San  Miguel. 
Most  of  the  poor  fellows  had  earned  their  few  coppers 
by  pounding  rice,  and  were  willing  to  share  with  us, 
whom  they  thought  in  a  worse  condition  than  them- 
selves. The  majority  of  them  were  quartered  on  the 
private  houses  in  the  town,  some  in  the  hospital,  and 
about  fifty  in  the  prison  with  us,  but  in  other  cells. 
Counting  all,  they  numbered  at  least  seven  hundred. 
After  a  few  days,  however,  over  one-half  of  them  were 
marched  out  to  neighboring  towns,  the  burden  of  their 
support  becoming  too  heavy  for  the  municipality  to 
bear. 

As  stated  above,  the  prison  at  San  Isidro  was  a 
large,  rambling  structure,  built  of  brick,  of  but  one 
story,  with  a  capacity  for  holding  about  three  hundred 
prisoners.  In  all,  Spaniards,  Filipinos,  and  Americans, 
we  numbered  about  two  hundred.  Only  the  Spaniards 
were  permitted  the  freedom  of  the  streets;  the  natives 
were  as  closely  confined  as  we.  The  cells  were  each 
capable  of  holding  at  least  fifty  prisoners  with  some 
comfort,  excepting  ours,  which  was  the  smallest.  In 
the  centre  was  a  broad,  sunny  courtyard,  in  which  we 
could  walk  a  certain  number  of  hours  daily. 

154 


San  Isidro 

Our  old  companions  from  Malolos,  Squint-Eye, 
Cigarettes,  and  all  the  rest  of  them,  had  arrived  before 
us,  having  come  by  a  shorter  route,  but,  fortunately, 
we  were  not  to  be  confined  together  again.  In  addi- 
tion there  were  confined  in  a  cell  adjoining  ours  al- 
most one  hundred  Macabebe  prisoners. 

These  were  treated  more  harshly  than  we  were,  and 
forced  to  live  upon  four  motas  apiece,  daily.  This 
tribe  inhabits  a  small  district  in  the  province  of  Pam- 
panga,  on  the  shores  of  the  bay.  In  spite  of  their  Hm- 
ited  numbers  as  compared  with  the  Tagalogs,  the  latter 
had  not  dared  to  invade  their  territory,  although  open 
hostilities  existed  between  them,  the  Macabebes  hav- 
ing successfully  repelled  several  attacks  made  on  them. 
These  one  hundred  prisoners  with  us  had  been  taken 
in  various  fights,  being  held  as  prisoners  of  war.  In 
appearance  they  differed  but  little  from  the  Tagalogs, 
seeming  to  me  to  be  even  physically  superior,  of  some- 
what larger  stature,  and  the  majority  of  them  not  so 
dark  complexioned,  but  at  that  time  some  lurking 
prejudice  may  have  impaired  my  judgment.  But  few 
of  them  could  speak  the  Tagalog  dialect,  their  native 
tongue  being  so  different  that  often  Spanish  was  re- 
sorted to  as  a  means  of  intercourse  with  the  guards. 
I  spoke  to  many  of  them  later  on,  inquiring  the  cause 
of  this  racial  feud  between  the  two  factions,  and  was 
told  that  it  dated  far  back  from  the  time  of  the  rajahs, 
and  would  continue  until  doomsday,  as  my  informant 
added  with  a  snap  of  his  teeth. 

Our  rations  had  now  been  decreased  to  four  motas 
and  about  one  pound  of  black  rice  a  day  each.  This, 
as  O'Brien  termed  it,  was  coming  down  to  bed-rock. 
But  we  appreciated  the  roomy  dimensions  of  our  cell, 

155 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

which,  although  much  smaller  than  the  room  in  the 
Santa  Isabela  convent,  was,  nevertheless,  of  generous 
dimensions,  about  ten  feet  wide  by  thirty  long,  a 
bamboo  platform,  upon  which  the  six  of  us  found  ample 
space  to  sleep,  running  along  one  wall  from  end  to 
end.  The  door  to  the  courtyard  at  one  end,  and  the 
window  overlooking  the  plaza  at  the  other,  caused  the 
air  to  ventilate  our  cell  thoroughly. 

It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  we  had  those  two  pesos, 
otherwise  we  would  have  suffered  severely.  When  at 
length  they  gave  out,  we  fortunately  found  another 
means  of  helping  out  our  meagre  rations  by  a  few  cop- 
pers: We  would  sing  for  alms!  Starvation  humbled 
our  pride,  and  one  day  we  began  to  sing  "  John 
Brown's  Body  "  until  quite  a  crowd  had  collected  be- 
fore our  door.  Then  we  took  one  of  our  mess  tins  and 
passed  it  around,  with  the  result  of  bringing  us  in 
twelve  motas.  And  while  it  remained  a  novelty,  it 
kept  us  from  enduring  pangs  of  hunger.  Arnold  had 
a  fine  bass  voice.  Ruber's  was  a  tenor,  and  the  rest  of 
us  anything  between.  "  John  Brown's  Body  "  was  our 
favorite,  as  we  all  knew  it  and  could  roar  out  the 
chorus  until  the  old  brick  walls  trembled. 

One  day  we  were  treated  to  a  genuine  surprise.  We 
had  just  struck  up  the  strains  of  "  John  Brown's  Body  " 
again,  and  were  about  to  join  in  a  mighty  chorus, 
"Glory,  Glory,  Hallelujah!"  but  were  struck  dumb 
with  astonishment,  when  from  the  adjoining  cell, 
where  the  Macabebes  were,  that  chorus  rose  up  with 
a  volume  that  could  be  likened  only  to  a  tremendous 
roar,  one  hundred  voices  strong.  Again  we  joined  in, 
and  together  with  our  neighbors,  the  Macabebes,  we 
sent  the  notes  of  that  old  hymn  rolling  over  all  San 

156 


San  Isidro 

Isidro,  so  that  Aguinaldo  could  easily  have  heard  it 
at  his  residence,  the  "  convento." 

So  often  had  we  sung  that  chorus,  that  the  Maca- 
bebes,  with  their  natural  aptitude  for  catching  the 
notes  of  a  melody,  had  picked  it  up,  and,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  adopting  words  of,. their  own,  which  made 
no  practical  difference,  it  might  just  as  well  have  been 
one  hundred  Americans.  Often  they  would  sing  with 
us  after  that — they  always  fell  in  with  the  chorus;  and 
as  often  as  they  struck  it  up  alone  we  would  join  the 
chorus. 

We  were  now  forced  to  reconcile  ourselves  to  the 
presence  of  Arnold,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  al- 
though several  of  us  persisted  in  our  determination 
never  to  exchange  a  word  with  him.  He,  for  his  part, 
tried  to  make  himself  as  agreeable  as  possible,  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation,  and  in  this  he  partly  succeeded 
with  some.  Besides  having  a  splendid  bass  voice,  he 
could  entertain  us  by  the  hour  with  stories  of  his  ad- 
ventures before  and  after  leaving  the  ministry.  He 
had  been  through  Hamlin  College  in  Minnesota,  and 
his  anecdotes  from  there  were  highly  amusing.  Oc- 
casionally he  would  get  on  his  feet  and  commence  a 
sermon  on  the  most  sacred  subject,  and  for,  say,  half 
an  hour,  would  speak  with  such  an  appearance  of  gen- 
uine feeling  and  sincerity,  that  a  stranger  would  have 
been  affected  to  tears;  when  suddenly  he  would  finish 
up  with  a  hoarse  laughter  and  a  string  of  vile  oaths! 
To  a  man  with  his  education,  however,  the  situation 
must  have  been  trying;  our  contempt  for  his  hypocrisy 
could  not  always  successfully  be  concealed.  O'Brien, 
his  own  countryman,  remarked  one  day  in  his  pres- 
ence :   "  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  Arnold  cooking  for 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos ' 

us :  a  man  of  his  character  would  not  hesitate  to  poison 
us."  But  Arnold  had  trained  himself  to  listen  to  sim- 
ilar remarks  in  silence,  although  many  times  I  saw  his 
eyes  flash  and  his  teeth  gnash. 

On  several  occasions  we  had  seen  Arnold  go  into 
the  alcaide's  quarters,  a  small  dwelling  inside  the  court- 
yard, and  chat  on  the  veranda  with  that  official,  but 
the  object  of  these  secret  discourses  we  never  learned, 
we  could  only  guess.  One  afternoon  the  alcaide's  clerk 
came  to  the  door  and  called  for  the  "  Ingles."  O'Brien, 
being  an  Englishman,  stepped  forward,  but  the  fellow 
said,  "  No,  not  you,  hombre,  I  want  Seiior  David,  the 
learned  man  that  speaks  the  good  English."  Arnold 
rose  from  the  bed  and  followed  the  messenger  out,  nor 
did  he  return  until  late  in  the  evening.  Although  we 
asked  no  questions,  he  volunteered  the  information 
that  the  "  presidente  provincial,"  or  Governor  of 
Nueva  Ecija,  who  resided  in  the  convent,  had  sent  for 
him,  wishing  him  to  become  his  teacher  in  English. 
Every  morning  he  was  to  go  there,  and  only  return  to 
the  prison  before  the  gates  were  closed,  to  spend  the 
night  with  us.  This  continued  for  several  days,  during 
which  period  we  only  saw  Arnold  at  nights.  One 
evening  the  gates  closed  and  Mr.  Arnold  had  not  ar- 
rived, and  for  almost  a  week  we  saw  nothing  more  of 
him.  A  young  officer,  who  visited  us  about  this  time, 
told  us  that  Sefior  David  was  "  mucho  bueno,"  and 
had  become  a  "  Capitan  Filipino."  This  I  would  not 
believe.  Arnold  was  not  the  man  to  fight  for  a  losing 
cause,  nor  for  any  cause,  for  that  matter,  but  it  showed 
the  way  the  wind  blew. 

Once,  while  several  of  us  were  contemplating  the 
gambols  and  rompings  of  the  very  youngest  of  the  in- 

158 


San  Isidro 

habitants  of  the  town  in  the  plaza  before  our  window, 
who  should  suddenly  appear  on  the  scene  but  Mr.  Ar- 
nold, attired  in  a  spotless  white  suit,  patent-leather 
shoes,  a  new  hat,  and  arm  in  arm  with  a  gaudily  dressed 
Filipino  officer.  As  they  came  opposite  the  window 
Arnold  turned,  and,  bringing  two  fingers  up  to  his 
forehead,  made  us  a  sweeping  French  bow,  and  then 
walked  on.  Some  of  us  took  that  bow  in  good  ear- 
nest as  a  gentleman's  salute,  others  again  as  a  token 
of  derision,  but  I  wondered  how  he  wished  us  to  in- 
terpret it. 

The  daily  routine  of  our  existence  became  tedious; 
as  yet  we  had  noticed  no  indication  of  a  peaceful  settle- 
ment. The  soldiers  still  drilled  in  the  plaza,  and  once 
a  band  passed  at  the  head  of  a  column  of  recruits 
marching  to  the  inspiring  strains  of  the  "  Marseillaise." 
Our  hopes  were  centred  on  those  regiments  at  Dagu- 
pan,  and  in  case  Aguinaldo  should  decide  to  hold  out 
after  the  15th,  the  end  of  the  armistice,  we  had  no 
doubt  but  what  the  two  forces,  the  one  to  the  north 
and  the  other  to  the  south,  would  come  together  on 
the  Insurgents  and  crush  them  as  a  nut-cracker  does  a 
nut,  freeing  the  imprisoned  kernel  inside.  Of  course, 
we  considered  ourselves  the  kernel.  But  some  nuts 
are  very  hard,  too  round,  and  roll. 

Our  principal  pastime  was  the  study  of  Spanish. 
O'Brien  and  I  amused  ourselves  by  competing  with 
one  another,  to  see  who  could  learn  a  given  number  of 
words  by  heart  in  the  shortest  time.  We  could  also 
sit  in  the  deep  window-sill  and  watch  the  passers-by, 
but  for  the  fact  that  they  likewise  wished  to  watch  us 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  sit  on  the  sill  outside  of  the 
bars  to  do  so.    We  soon  learned  that  we  need  not  toler- 

159 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ate  this,  and,  procuring  long  sticks  from  the  bed  plat- 
form, poked  them  off.  As  the  ground  on  the  outside 
was  over  five  feet  below  the  window-sill,  and  only  about 
three  on  the  inside,  we  had  the  best  of  it,  and  enjoyed 
their  rage  at  their  own  impotence.  As  we,  though  un- 
officially, were  backed  up  by  the  alcaide,  their  efforts 
at  revenge  failed,  and  every  time  a  hand  grasped  the 
bars  from  the  outside  it  received  a  rap.  On  several 
occasions  they  tried  to  overcome  us  by  throwing 
stones,  but  here  the  guards  interfered. 

Gradually  the  rabble  learned  to  leave  our  window 
alone,  something  we  could  never  have  accomplished 
in  Malolos.  The  alcaide  and  several  of  his  officials 
were  far-sighted. 

Small  groups  of  Spanish  prisoners  often  came  strag- 
gling into  town  from  the  southward,  passing  our  win- 
dow on  their  way  to  the  presidency.  One  afternoon 
I  sat  leaning  my  forehead  against  the  bars,  watching 
some  twenty  or  thirty  of  these  poor  fellows,  dusty, 
ragged,  and  barefooted,  marching  into  town,  when  I 
noticed  one  of  them  stare  at  me  and  then  slowly  ap- 
proach the  window.  I  paid  but  little  attention  to  this 
man's  singular  behavior,  until  he  stood  below  the  win- 
dow, calling  me  by  name.  I  was  startled:  the  voice 
was  familiar  but  the  features  strange.  He  called  again 
and  reached  up  his  hand.  Then  I  recognized  him, 
more  by  his  voice  than  by  his  features. 

Two  years  before,  when  the  name  of  the  Philippine 
Islands  was  hardly  as  familiar  to  the  average  American 
as  that  of  a  remote  province  of  China,  the  writer 
formed  one  of  the  ship's  company  of  a  steamer  trading 
in  Mediterranean  waters.  On  this  trip  we  spent  a 
week  in  the  Spanish  port  of  Cartagena,  and  while  here 

i6o 


San  Isidro 

two  Spaniards  were  added  to  the  number  of  the  crew, 
one  an  old  salt  who  had  sailed  the  briny  deep  for  many 
a  year,  the  other  a  boy  of  about  sixteen,  not  long  from 
home.  The  latter,  whose  name  was  Antonio,  was  he 
who  now  stood  below  the  window.  While  on  board 
the  ship  he  learned  English  fairly  well,  that  being  his 
ambition,  and  on  account  of  his  youth  and  good-nature 
we  all  liked  him.  At  the  end  of  three  months  he  left 
us  to  join  the  Spanish  navy,  and  since  then  I  had  not 
seen  him  until  now.  I  had  known  him  as  a  sprightly 
and  robust  youngster,  able  to  fly  up  the  ratlines  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  or  to  climb  up  stays  hand  over 
fist  in  a  jiffy.  There  he  stood,  a  sallow-complexioned, 
hollow-eyed  weakling,  panting  from  the  exertion  of 
carrying  a  blanket-roll,  his  features  so  thin  that  the  lips 
were  drawn  away  from  the  protruding  teeth.  He  still 
wore  an  old  ragged,  blue  navy  suit,  and  on  the  band 
of  his  cap  the  name  of  his  vessel,  the  Isla  de  Cuba,  in 
faded  yellow  letters.  I  could  not  repress  an  exclama- 
tion of  surprise  mingled  with  pity,  whereat  he  gave 
expression  to  a  weak  and  mirthless  smile.  "  One 
year,  almost,"  he  said,  "  since  your  countrymen 
delivered  me  into  the  hands  of  these  people.  Why 
did  they  do  that?  Could  they  not  have  taken  us 
to  Manila?  I  might  now  have  been  in  Spain  once 
more  to  greet  my  old  mother,  had  they  not  turned 
us  over  to  these  barbarians  that  neither  feed  nor 
clothe  us! " 

"Never  mind,  Antonio!"  I  replied,  "in  another 
month  we  shall  all  be  in  Manila."  He  laughed,  and  a 
dry  and  sarcastic  laugh  it  was, 

"  What,  do  you  believe  these  foolish  stories?  Those 
same  words  I  heard  a  year  ago,  and,  like  you,  believed 

i6i 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

them.  One  month  more,  they  told  us,  only  one  month 
more,  not  more,  and  never  less." 

I  tried  hard  to  argue  poor  Antonio  out  of  his  pessi- 
mistic views,  but  I  lacked  conviction  myself.  Then 
we  spoke  of  former  days,  when,  as  shipmates,  we  sailed 
over  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  together, 
unconscious  in  the  buoyancy  of  our  youthful  spirits 
that  a  dark  cloud  was  rising  on  the  horizon  of  our  near 
futures,  to  prove  cruelly  fatal  to  him,  poor  fellow.  We 
were  still  recalling  to  one  another  episodes  of  our  past 
acquaintanceship,  experiences  that  we  had  had  in  com- 
mon, when  the  sentry  at  the  gate  saw  him  and  drove 
him  away,  striking  his  thin,  wasted  body  with  the  butt 
of  his  gun;  "  Booh — sigue — diablo!  "  each  word  ac- 
companied by  a  blow  causing  a  sickening  thud! 

I  saw  him  waving  his  hand  at  me  as  long  as  he  re- 
mained in  sight,  but  soon  he  passed  beyond  the  limited 
range  of  my  vision,  and  I  never  saw  him  again.  Long 
afterward  I  made  inquiries  for  him  in  Manila,  but  no 
one  seemed  to  know  what  had  become  of  him,  until 
one  day  on  the  Escolta  I  noticed  a  Spaniard  in  navy 
uniform,  on  his  cap-band,  in  large  yellow  letters,  the 
name  Isla  de  Cuba. 

Stopping  and  addressing  the  stranger,  I  asked  him 
if  he  knew  Antonio  Rodriguez.  He  knew  him  well. 
Since  leaving  Spain  they  had  been  companions  until 
the  surrender  of  the  naval  garrison  in  Subig  Bay, 
when  the  Americans  intrusted  them  to  the  Insurgents 
as  prisoners  of  war.  They  had  been  companions  as 
prisoners  for  eighteen  months,  until  hunger  and  sick- 
ness had  so  reduced  them  that  their  companions  had 
carried  them  both  together  to  one  of  those  charnel- 
houses  called  hospitals.    There  this  man  saw  Antonio 

162 


San  Isidro 

dose  his  eyes  forever.  Three  days  later  the  Ameri- 
cans captured  the  town  and  he  himself  was  sent  to 
Manila,  where  proper  nourishment,  good  nursing,  and 
intelligent  physicians  effected  his  recovery. 

My  impression  had  all  along  been  that  the  Spanish 
prisoners  consisted  entirely  of  soldiers,  marines,  and  a 
few  sailors,  but  one  afternoon  a  party  of  about  two 
dozen  "  padres  "  appeared  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
prison.  This  somewhat  surprised  me,  for  so  revolting 
were  the  stories  I  had  heard  of  these  Spanish  friars, 
especially  of  their  cruelty  and  persecutions,  that  I  had 
naturally  supposed  them  to  have  shared  the  fate  of  the 
three  in  Santa  Isabela,  but  here  were  some  twenty-four 
or  five,  and  as  I  subsequently  learned,  there  were  at 
least  five  hundred  in  captivity. 

Not  only  do  the  Tagalogs  hate  the  friars,  but  all 
the  natives  of  Luzon,  Ilocanos,  Macabebes,  Mestizos, 
and  even  the  Spanish  soldiers  regard  them  as  human 
birds  of  prey,  and  the  stories  I  have  heard  of  their 
fiendish  cruelty  and  cunning  trickery  would  fill  vol- 
umes and  make  a  fitting  parallel  to  the  Spanish  inqui- 
sition. From  nobody,  not  even  the  Spanish  officers, 
have  I  heard  a  word  in  their  defence,  and  the  native 
clergy  unite  in  calling  them  oily  hypocrites  and  ty- 
rants. There  were,  of  course,  exceptions,  for  once  I 
heard  of  a  good  friar  who  lived  in  a  small  provincial 
town,  and  as  "  cura  "  ruled  his  flock  with  sympathy 
and  love,  but  then  he  died. 

They  were  mostly  of  the  Franciscan,  Recollet,  Au- 
gustin,  and  Jesuit  orders,  and,  strange  to  say,  the 
Filipinos  are  not  so  averse  to  the  latter  as  to  the  rest. 
The  Jesuits  have  founded  schools  and  done  less  harm, 
but  the  Recollets  seem  to  be  the  most  hated.    I  have 

163 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

had  men  show  me  crippled  limbs  caused  by  the  friars 
by  torture  inflicted  in  underground  chambers,  in  order 
to  force  their  victims  to  reveal  the  hiding-place  of  In- 
surgent refugees.  Another  showed  me  scars  on  the 
soles  of  his  feet  where  they  had  tortured  him  by  plac- 
ing burning  candles  to  the  bare  flesh.  I  have  myself 
entered  secret  chambers  under  their  convents  and  seen 
hideous  instruments  of  torture.*  I  have  spoken  to 
men  returning  from  years  of  exile  in  Fernando  Po  to 
find  parents  and  relatives  dead,  from  whose  embraces 
they  had  been  torn  for  engendering  the  enmity  of  the 
village  cura.  How  many  hundreds  fared  even  worse 
than  these  for  daring  to  complain  of  the  injustice  and 
tyranny  of  the  oppressive  "  frailes,"  or  for  daring  to 
say  that  taking  what  is  not  your  own  is  a  crime,  in 
falling  on  the  Luneta  in  Manila!  Read  the  story  of 
Rizal;  his  is  but  the  fate  of  hundreds  of  others,  less 
gifted,  less  illustrious,  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  mar- 
tyrs! 

Some  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  Filipinos  have 
assured  me  that  the  insurrection  of  1896  and  1897  was 
but  the  upheaval  of  a  slumbering  volcano,  the  burst- 
ing out  of  a  smouldering  fire,  which  for  years  had  been 
fed  and  fanned  by  continual  oppression  and  outrages, 
until  at  length  the  flames  leaped  up  to  spread  revolu- 
tion, bloodshed,  and  greater  misery  throughout  the 
land. 

Had  Spain  been  willing  to  abolish  the  monasterial 
corporations  as  a  political  institution,  and  left  only  the 

*  I  have  seen  and  visited  a  secret  underground  passageway  from  the 
Bishop's  palace,  in  Vigan,  to  a  neighboring  nunnery,  but  have  learned 
that  this  has  since  been  filled  in  by  the  Americans.  These  subterranean 
passageways  were  said  to  exist  in  other  places  ! 

164 


San  Isidro 

Catholic  clergy,  the  Filipinos  would  not  only  have 
remained  faithful  to  Spain,  but  would  have  fought  and 
died  side  by  side  with  the  Spanish  soldiers  under  the 
red  and  yellow  banner,  defending  their  country  against 
the  American  invasion.  The  laws  of  Spain  were,  many 
of  them,  wise  and  just,  but  when  an  archbishop  or  even 
a  bishop  could  interpret  them  to  suit  his  own  purposes, 
of  what  use  were  they? 

When  Aguinaldo,  in  1897,  at  the  Treaty  or  Agree- 
ment of  Biacnabato  accepted  400,000  pesetas  to  lay 
down  his  sword  and  declare  the  insurrection  at  an 
end,  he  did  not  receive  this  money,  nor  was  it  given 
to  him  as  a  personal  bribe,  as  many  of  our  papers 
and  magazines  have  declared,  but  intrusted  to  his  care 
as  a  fund  with  which  to  educate  the  Filipino  rising 
generation  abroad  in  foreign  universities. 

The  stipulations  of  this  treaty  were,  that  the  religious 
corporations  be  abolished,  800,000  pesetas  be  given  as 
an  educational  fund,  as  stated  above,  and  representa- 
tion be  granted  in  the  Cortes  with  internal  self-gov- 
ernment. 

All  this  was  agreed  to  by  Governor-General  Primo 
de  Rivera,  in  the  name  of  the  Spanish  Government. 
Half  the  sum  agreed  upon  was  actually  paid,  and  Agui- 
naldo and  seventeen  of  the  principal  leaders  given  pas- 
sage to  Hong-Kong,  but  as  soon  as  the  Insurgents 
had  disbanded  as  an  armed  body,  the  rest  of  the  agree- 
ment was  ignored;  the  other  400,000  pesetas  were 
never  paid,  the  friars  remained  undisturbed,  and  new 
executions  took  place  on  the  Luneta.  When  it  be- 
came known  that  Aguinaldo  and  his  companions  were 
entering  into  negotiations  with  the  Americans,  the 
Colonial  Government  at  once  made  the  most  pro- 

165 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

fuse  promises  of  reforms  to  come,  but  it  was  then  too 
late.  The  400,000  pesetas  already  received  remained 
in  a  Hong-Kong  bank  and  was  afterward  used  to  pur- 
chase arms  and  ammunition,  but  never  have  I  heard 
any  Filipino  accuse  Aguinaldo  of  misappropriating  one 
cent  of  that  money.  Although  the  people  do  not 
reverence  him  as  a  superior  being,  nor  regard  him  as 
a  demigod,  as  many  of  our  newspaper  correspondents 
have  asserted,  Capitan  Emilio  is  beloved  by  his  people 
rather  for  his  well-known  patriotism  and  generous 
character  than  his  mental  abilities.  Many  Filipinos, 
even  Tagalogs,  admit  that  Luna  was  the  abler  man, 
but  he,  again,  lost  many  friends  by  his  harshness  and 
strict  discipline,  and,  as  will  afterward  appear,  this 
eventually  cost  him  his  Hfe. 

Had  Rizal  lived,  there  is  not  the  least  doubt  but  what 
he  would  have  been  Chief  Executive  instead  of  Agui- 
naldo, as  he,  according  to  my  numerous  informants, 
combined  the  gentle  and  mild  disposition  of  Capitan 
Emilio  with  the  learning  and  mental  abilities  of  An- 
tonio Luna.  But  I  have  been  wandering  from  my 
narrative,  and,  meanwhile,  left  those  poor,  ragged, 
foot-sore  friars  standing  under  a  burning  sun  in  the 
prison  courtyard. 

The  typical  monk,  as  we  generally  see  him  depicted, 
is  in  the  majority  of  cases  of  short  but  broad  figure, 
with  a  shaven  head,  a  double  chin,  and  generous 
paunch,  tied  about  the  middle  with  an  old  rope;  but, 
if  these  particular  "  padres  "  had  ever  been  encum- 
bered with  too  much  surplus  flesh,  they  had  long  since 
gotten  rid  of  it.  Shaven  heads  the  majority  had,  and 
some  still  wore  old  blue  gowns  with  capacious  cowls 
attached  to  the  nape,  but  many  had  been  obliged  to 

166 


San  Isidro 

cover  their  nakedness  with  the  cast-off  uniforms  of 
the  cazadores.  Several  were  smooth-faced  boys  still  in 
their  teens,  but  the  others  had  allowed  their  beards 
to  sweep  their  breast,  until  they  resembled  what  we 
out  West  call  a  "  mountain  pard."  Some  of  them, 
in  fact,  did  remind  me  of  returned  mining  prospectors 
out  of  luck. 

On  this  same  evening  of  their  arrival  we  happened 
to  give  one  of  our  "  John  Brown's  Body  "  concerts, 
and  the  friars  gathered  around  the  door  to  listen. 
During  one  of  the  intervals,  O'Brien,  who  wished  to 
do  the  polite  thing,  as  he  termed  it,  stepped  to  the 
door  with  the  invitation:  "  Come  inside,  hombres, 
come  inside;  sit  down  on  the  bed  and  be  comfortable." 
"  Hombre  "  is  only  used  when  addressing  inferiors  or 
intimate  friends,  but  O'Brien's  knowledge  of  Spanish, 
Hke  that  of  the  rest  of  us,  did  not  reach  into  details, 
and  he  was  quite  unaware  of  not  having  spoken  with 
due  courtesy.  The  friars  drew  themselves  up,  while 
one  of  them  retorted  impressively:  "  Nosotros  somos 
padres ! "  (We  are  padres !)  For  the  moment 
O'Brien  was  taken  aback.  For  a  few  seconds  he 
seemed  to  reflect,  then  he  replied  in  his  best  Spanish: 
"  Ah,  yes,  yes,  we  know  that — we  understand — but  no 
importance — we  don't  mind  that — come  in  anyhow 
— ^you're  welcome  all  the  same !  "  But  the  padres  went 
away  and  left  our  English  friend  wondering  for  some 
time  how  he  had  offended  them.  They  departed  again 
next  morning,  but  we  were  destined  to  meet  again. 

As  the  15th  drew  near  we  became  anxious,  for,  still 
having  full  faith  in  the  existence  of  an  armistice,  we 
felt  that  the  decision  of  the  Insurgent  leaders  concerned 
us  deeply. 

167 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos  ^^^"^ 

Of  late,  however,  we  had  received  no  definite  in- 
formation upon  which  to  build  any  further  hopes.  We 
heard  no  more  of  the  forces  to  the  southward,  much 
less  of  those  reported  to  the  northward.  Our  own 
families  in  distant  America  could  probably  have  given 
us  a  great  deal  of  information  on  the  situation  right 
about  ourselves,  of  which  we  were  practically  ignorant. 
News  was  the  much  desired  premium.  "  No  hay 
noticias?  "  we  hurled  at  every  passing  Spaniard,  the 
answer  generally  being  a  sad  shake  of  the  head.  But 
on  the  15th  the  oppressive  gloom  hovering  over  us  was 
pierced  by  a  tiny  ray  of  light  from  the  outside  world. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  on  that  date,  most  of 
us  lying  on  the  bed  kicking  our  heels  in  the  air,  dis- 
cussing the  advisability  of  investing  a  cent  in  a  new 
cooking  pot  to  replace  the  old  one  which  had  been 
cracked  by  a  disastrous  fall,  ^when  suddenly  O'Brien, 
who  had  been  sitting  in  the  window,  gave  a  shout.  We 
all  rushed  up  beside  him  and  glanced  down  the  street. 
A  squad  of  soldiers  came  marching  up  with  fixed 
bayonets,  with  a  tall,  fair-haired  man  in  their  midst. 
But  what  caused  our  hearts  to  leap  was  the  fact  that 
he  wore  an  American  soldier's  uniform.  "  Hurrah!  " 
we  yelled,  as  we  followed  each  other  in  a  wild  rush 
for  the  courtyard.    "  News  at  last! " 


168 


CHAPTER  XII 
NEWS   FROM  OUTSIDE 

A  new  prisoner — The  names  on  the  wall — Albert  Bishop  tells 
his  story — The  wrong  side  of  the  firing  line — His  interview 
with  Aguinaldo — Rumors  of  more  prisoners — Lieutenant 
Gill  more' s  party  arrives. 

SO  wild  had  our  rush  been  into  the  yard  that  the 
guard  stationed  at  the  door  failed  to  check  us, 
this  not  being  the  hour  for  walking,  but  the  only- 
manner  in  which  he  could  have  done  so  successfully 
would  have  been  with  cold  steel  or  bullets,  and  to  these 
means  he  did  not  resort.  The  truth  is,  he  was  hardly 
less  excited  than  we.  But  soon  we  were  forced  back 
into  the  cell,  where  we  stood  in  the  doorway  anxiously 
watching  for  the  new  prisoner.  At  length  he  was 
ushered  in,  and  taken  up  on  the  veranda  of  the  al- 
caide's quarters,  where  he  seemed  to  be  subjected  to 
some  sort  of  an  examination.  Tall,  bearded,  and  fair- 
haired,  he  was  a  typical  Anglo-Saxon,  but  it  was  the 
brown  uniform  that  appealed  to  us.  At  length  he  de- 
scended the  steps,  and  was  conducted  across  the  yard 
to  us.  To  say  that  we  extended  the  new  arrival  a 
hearty  reception  is  expressing  it  a  trifle  mildly.  We 
all  endeavored  to  shake  hands  with  him  at  once,  failing 
in  which  we  bodily  seized  and  dragged  him  into  the 
cell  and  sat  him  down  upon  the  bed.  Our  enthusiasm 
evidently  alarmed  the  stranger  somewhat;    probably 

169 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

he  feared  the  rigor  of  prison  Hfe  had  overpowered  our 
minds;  so,  to  give  him  time  to  recover  himself,  we 
drew  back  and  stood  about  him  in  a  semicircle.  Then 
commenced  a  rapid-fire  volley  of  questions,  but  first 
of  all  we  inquired,  was  it  known  in  the  American  lines 
that  we  existed?  was  it  known  who  we  were?  and  could 
our  families  possibly  have  been  informed  that  we  were 
among  the  living? 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  we  saw  your  names  on  the 
wall  of  the  Malolos  prison."  We  all  gave  a  sigh  of 
relief.    Thank  God  those  names  had  been  written! 

"  But  how  about  the  armistice?  "  we  again  queried. 
"  That  ends  to-day,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  Armistice?    What  armistice?  " 

"  The  armistice  that  commenced  on  the  first  day 
of  the  month,  of  course,  and  ends  to-day.  We  do  know 
a  little  of  the  outside  world,  even  if  we  don't  keep  the 
morning  papers." 

"  I  haven't  heard  of  any  armistice.  Wouldn't  hardly 
have  captured  me  during  an  armistice — would  they? 
Been  some  pretty  heavy  fighting  going  on  since  the 
first  of  this  month." 

"  What,  no  armistice?  Holy  smoke,  what  a  disap- 
pointment! But  why  don't  the  troops  at  Dagupan 
march  down  and  close  in  on  us?  " 

"  Troops  at  Dagupan?  No  troops  there.  A  small 
gun-boat  cruises  about  in  the  Lingayen  Gulf,  but  no 
troops  have  disembarked." 

This  was  too  much  for  us.  We  were  struck  dumb 
and  stood  stupidly  staring  at  one  another,  our  fond- 
est hopes  dashed  to  the  ground  and  crushed.  Again 
we  ventured: 

"  But  why  in  the  name  of  Jupiter  don't  they  ad- 
170 


News  from  Outside 

vance?  Where  is  the  army?  For  God's  sake,  tell  us 
quickly,  have  they  met  with  any  reverses?  Don't  keep 
us  in  suspense! " 

"  Reverses!  The  Filipinos  beat  us?  No!  the  army 
is  now  at  Calumpit  resting  after  that  terrible  advance 
on  Malolos.  I  tell  you,  we  came  a  ripping  and  a  tear- 
ing up  that  railroad  track  on  the  double  quick,  and 
covered  that  whole  distance  in  six  days.  We  just  kept 
the  amigos  on  the  run  the  whole  time,  and  they  ran 
so  fast  that  we  didn't  see  but  very  few  of  them  after 
leaving  Caloocan,  until  we  got  to  Malolos,  and  there 
we  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  a  train  pulling  out  of 
the  station.  But  we  couldn't  catch  it  with  the  bat- 
tery guns,  and  it  got  away  safely.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  Chinamen  the  town  was  deserted  and 
partly  burnt.  To  get  into  our  good  graces  the  Chinos 
showed  us  where  three  big  Krupp  guns  were  buried, 
and  the  prison  where  you  had  been  confined  and  where 
your  names  were  still  plainly  written  on  the  wall. 
After  resting  a  few  days  we  marched  on  to  Calumpit, 
or  to  the  river  at  least,  for  we  couldn't  cross  it,  as  the 
railroad  bridge  was  partly  destroyed.  The  boys  were 
crazy  to  go  on,  but  we  received  orders  to  rest.  They 
said  we  needed  it.  So  we  lay  down  and  watched  tt  j 
Insurgents  build  trenches  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  as  we  did  at  Caloocan  for  nearly  two  months,  but 
when  those  trenches  are  finished  and  can't  be  made  any 
stronger,  the  boys  will  just  sweep  right  on  and  take 
them  too.  There's  no  glory  taking  trenches  unless 
they're  finished,  and  lots  of  blood  shed,  and  dead  Fili- 
pinos lying  about." 

The  pleasure  we  felt  in  meeting  Albert  Bishop,  as 
our  new  fellow-prisoner  called  himself,  with  news  from 

171 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  American  lines  but  four  days  old,  could  hardly  off- 
set the  bitterness  of  having  our  dearest  hopes  so  en- 
tirely crushed!  No  armistice!  No  conference!  No 
troops  at  Dagupan!  Where  could  such  stories  origi- 
nate? The  Spaniards  had  given  them  as  afBrmed  facts. 
Life  seemed  to  us  just  then  a  hollow  mockery! 

Nevertheless,  we  continued  pumping  our  new  com- 
panion, and,  nothing  loath,  he  sat  down  on  the  bed,  his 
back  against  the  wall,  and  talked  until  way  into  the 
night.  His  story  was  to  us  intensely  interesting.  As 
nearly  as  possible  I  give  it  in  his  own  words: 

"  Shortly  after  the  capture  of  Malolos,  Battery  K  of 
the  Third  Artillery,  of  which  I  am  a  member,  was 
ordered  out  to  hold  a  town  close  to  Malolos,  and  called 
Paombong.  This  place  is  situated  on  the  south  bank 
of  a  small  river,  but  on  the  opposite  side  stands  a  stone 
church. 

"  On  the  night  of  the  nth  I  was  on  outpost  duty. 
Usually  the  outposts  were  stationed  on  our  side  of  the 
river,  along  the  bank,  but  on  this  particular  night  we 
were  sent  over  to  occupy  the  church.  As  I  was  not 
to  go  on  post  until  four  in  the  morning,  together  with 
the  rest  of  my  relief,  I  lay  down  to  sleep  inside  the 
church.  In  all  we  numbered  fifteen,  with  a  sergeant  in 
command. 

"  I  had  been  soundly  sleeping  when  a  great  uproar 
woke  me  up.  Our  light  had  been  extinguished,  my 
companions  were  stumbling  about  in  the  darkness  try- 
ing to  find  the  door,  and  above  all  this  confusion  came 
the  rattling  of  regular  volleys  being  fired  outside,  fol- 
lowed by  the  crashing  and  splintering  of  the  shell  win- 
dows about  us.  Jumping  up  I  reached  for  my  Krag, 
having  stood  it  in  a  window-sill  just  above  me,  but  it 

172 


News  from  Outside 

was  gone.  Believing  that  it  might  have  fallen  to  the 
floor  I  groped  about  in  the  darkness  hoping  to  find 
it,  but  soon  reaUzed  that  somebody  had  taken  it. 
Giving  up  all  hope  of  recovering  my  gun,  I  started  to 
follow  my  companions,  but,  on  coming  outside,  found 
that  the  Insurgents  had  cut  me  ofT  from  the  river  and 
driven  the  outposts  back  to  the  main  camp.  In  the 
darkness  I  became  completely  lost,  for  I  heard  the 
Remingtons  going  off  on  all  sides  of  me,  so  I  lay  down 
in  a  ditch,  hoping  the  boys  would  drive  the  Insurgents 
back  before  daylight.  I  must  have  been  lying  in  the 
mud  there  for  several  hours,  when  the  horizon  in  the 
East  began  to  lighten,  and  still  the  Filipinos  were  be- 
tween me  and  the  camp.  Hoping  that  the  boys  were 
but  waiting  for  daylight  to  drive  them  back,  I  waited 
until  the  sun  rose  over  the  distant  mountains,  but, 
with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  shot,  all  remained 
quiet.  Becoming  at  length  impatient,  I  determined  to 
make  an  effort  to  crawl  through  the  enemy's  lines. 
Raising  my  head  above  the  sides  of  the  ditch,  I  saw  the 
Insurgent  soldiers  stretched  out  in  skirmish  order 
along  the  bank.  In  one  place  there  seemed  to  be  quite 
a  break,  and  toward  this  I  began  to  crawl  in  the  rice- 
stubble  on  my  hands  and  knees.  Suddenly  I  heard  a 
shout  behind  me,  and,  turning,  found  I  had  been  dis- 
covered by  three  bolomen,  who  came  rushing  toward 
me  with  uplifted  weapons.  Jumping  up  I  made  a  dash 
for  the  river,  but  the  soldiers,  hearing  the  cries  of  the 
bolomen,  rushed  in  between  and  opened  fire  on  me.  A 
young  officer  commanded  me  to  halt,  which  I  then 
did,  when  the  firing  ceased.  The  captain  then  detailed 
a  corporal  and  three  men  to  take  charge  of  me,  and 
I  was  conducted  to  the  rear. 

173 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  In  the  afternoon  I  was  brought  to  Calumpit,  part 
of  which,  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  is  still  in  the 
hands  of  the  Insurgents.  I  was  taken  into  the  con- 
vent, and  well  received  by  a  number  of  high  officials, 
some  of  whom  addressed  me  in  English.  Later  on  I 
was  invited  to  seat  myself  at  the  table  with  them,  to 
a  supper  such  as  I  had  never  eaten  since  leaving  the 
States.  At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  a  dark  little  Fili- 
pino dressed  in  black  civilian  clothes — this  was  Agui- 
naldo.  During  the  supper  the  President,  in  half 
Spanish  and  half-broken  English,  asked  me  all  sorts  of 
questions  regarding  the  next  election,  and  what 
chances  I  thought  Bryan  had  for  the  Presidential  chair 
of  the  great  United  States.  He  seemed  to  know  as 
much  of  American  poHtics  as  I  did.  With  his  own 
hands  he  poured  me  out  a  glass  of  cool  beer. 

"  That  night  I  slept  in  a  better  bed  than  I  had  seen 
since  coming  to  the  island.  My  opinion  of  the  In- 
surgents had  undergone  a  wonderful  change. 

"  The  following  morning  I  saw  Aguinaldo  again, 
who  gave  me  a  Mexican  peso  to  remember  him  by. 
He  told  me  that  I  would  be  taken  to  San  Isidro,  where 
I  would  meet  six  of  my  countrymen. 

"  From  Calumpit  to  San  Fernando  I  was  taken  in 
the  train,  and  from  there  to  here  I  came  on  foot  by 
easy  stages,  well  treated  on  the  whole  route." 

When  Bishop  had  concluded  his  story,  we  told  him 
that  he  had  better  prepare  himself  for  a  change,  as  beer 
did  not  form  any  part  of  our  diet,  although  quite  will- 
ing to  do  the  pouring  out  ourselves,  nor  were  we  on 
calling  terms  with  Don  Emilio  or  his  staff. 

For  two  days  we  left  poor  Bishop  but  little  peace 
with  our  questions,  but  patiently  and  with  great  good 

174 


News  from  Outside 

nature  he  answered  them  all  to  the  best  of  his 
ability.  Arnold  also  had  his  curiosity  aroused  and  paid 
us  a  visit,  bringing  with  him  a  copy  of  La  Independent 
cia,  containing  an  account  of  Bishop's  arrival,  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  We  have  just  had  an  interview  with  the  newly 
arrived  prisoner  who  was  captured  by  our  army  at 
Paombong,  which,  although  short,  was  none  the  less 
interesting.  He  informs  us  that  the  reports  circulated 
among  us  of  the  great  cruelties  and  tortures  inflicted 
by  the  Americans  on  the  Filipino  prisoners  have  no 
foundation  and  are  entirely  false.  On  the  contrary, 
they  are  well  treated,  he  says.  Undoubtedly  such  re- 
ports are  likewise  circulated  among  the  Americans 
about  us.  The  prisoner  gives  his  name  as  Alberto 
O'Bishop;  he  is  large,  well  built,  and  has  whiskers  like 
a  horse!  His  knowledge  of  Spanish  could  be  im- 
proved." 

Alberto  O'Bishop,  the  man  with  whiskers  like  a 
horse!  That  joke  clung  to  him  ever  afterward,  and  no- 
body enjoyed  it  more  than  he  did  himself.  Although 
he  was  not  more  than  thirty,  his  beard  reached  almost 
to  his  belt,  and  this  no  doubt  greatly  amused  the 
smooth-faced  Filipinos.  However,  it  is  highly  within 
the  limits  of  probability  that  the  editor  of  La  Indepen- 
dencia  meant  a  goat  instead  of  a  horse. 

In  a  few  days  we  had  once  more  settled  down  into 
the  usual  tedious  stagnancy.  We  should  have  liked 
one  prisoner  to  arrive  every  day,  a  sort  of  a  human 
newspaper  to  keep  us  up  with  passing  events.  Prob- 
ably it  would  not  have  been  as  agreeable  to  those 
captured  as  to  ourselves. 

Once  we  heard  our  guards  state  that  a  large  Ameri- 
175 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

can  cruiser  had  been  captured,  and  the  crew,  number- 
ing over  three  hundred,  taken  prisoners.  Such  wild 
rumors  we  had  heard  often  before,  and  they  had  ceased 
to  amuse  us.  Next  day,  however,  the  rumor  took  more 
definite  form,  though  greatly  modified.  A  small  gun- 
boat had  been  captured  on  the  Pacific  (Eastern)  coast 
of  the  island  and  fifty  prisoners  taken.  This  was  sup- 
posed to  be  by  telegram.  Finally  on  the  21st  we  were 
told  that  the  prisoners  would  arrive  within  twenty-four 
hours,  now  reduced  to  one  officer  and  thirty  men.  We 
began  now  to  grow  interested. 

By  the  afternoon  of  the  succeeding  day  we  had  for- 
gotten all  about  these  vague  prisoners,  when  the 
shouts  of  a  crowd  of  people  outside  on  the  plaza 
aroused  our  curiosity  and  brought  us  all  to  the  window. 
Both  sides  of  the  street,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  were 
black  with  people,  the  middle  being  kept  clear  by  sol- 
diers and  police.  Great  excitement  seemed  to  pre- 
vail. Finally  from  the  distance  the  strains  of  a  brass 
band  playing  the  "  Marseillaise "  reached  us,  and 
gradually  grew  more  distinct. 

"  Viva!  viva!  "  shouted  hundreds  of  voices.  "  They 
are  coming,  they  are  coming!  "  At  length  a  squad 
of  soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets  and  military  step 
marched  into  view.  Then,  about  twenty  yards  behind, 
followed  the  band,  the  members  of  which  were  ragged 
and  barefooted,  but  almost  bursting  with  pent-up  mel- 
ody. The  people  cheered  and  screamed,  and  those  that 
had  hats  tossed  them  in  the  air.  Next  came  a  squad 
of  police,  and  after  them,  and  followed  by  a  second 
squad  of  police,  seven  limping,  dirty,  ragged,  half- 
dead-looking  creatures,  who  looked  as  if  they  at  some 
time  might  have  been  Americans. 

176 


News  from  Outside 

These  were  the  long  expected  prisoners,  seven  of 
them,  with  half  a  company  of  armed  men  to  guard 
them.  At  the  gate  they  were  formally  turned  over  to 
the  alcaide,  and  marched  into  the  yard  where  we  al- 
ready stood  to  receive  them.  The  hand-shaking  and 
jumbling  of  questions  that  followed  can  hardly  be 
adequately  described.  The  new-comers  were  taken 
into  the  cell  where  they  at  once  dropped  down  on  the 
bed  from  sheer  fatigue,  having  marched  all  that  day 
and  the  night  before.  They  should  have  numbered 
eight  in  all,  but  their  officer  had  remained  with  the 
Governor  in  the  presidency.  Only  two  had  shoes,  the 
rest  were  barefooted  and  their  feet  in  a  bleeding  con- 
dition. The  clothes  they  wore,  or  rather  what  was 
left  of  them,  told  us  they  were  navy  blue-jackets,  so  we 
surmised  thtm  to  be  the  crew  of  the  captured  cruiser. 


177, 


CHAPTER  XIII 
OFF  FOR  THE  NORTH 

Our  new  companions — Increased  ration  allowances — Bebinkas 
— Keeping  a  diary — Retail  cheaper  than  wholesale — A  scrap 
of  paper  under  the  floor — Ramon  Rey  and  the  two  letters — 
The  Negritos — "  A  treaty  of  Peace  " — On  the  march  again. 

NO  doubt  the  reader  has  already  guessed  the 
identity  of  these  new  arrivals.  Lieutenant 
Gillmore  and  his  party  need  no  introduction. 
These  seven  wayworn  sufferers  were  indeed  the  sur- 
vivors of  that  unfortunate  affair  at  Baler,  the  particu- 
lars of  which  have  repeatedly  been  given  to  the  pub- 
lic. We  did  not  see  the  lieutenant  himself  until  next 
morning,  when  he  appeared  on  the  alcaide's  veranda. 
He  appeared  to  be  a  rather  heavy-set  man  of  middle 
age,  slightly  under  medium  height.  He  still  wore  his 
dark  blue  undress  uniform  coat  and  pants,  but  instead 
of  a  cap  a  large  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  edged  with 
red  tape.  He  did  not  come  down  to  see  us  that  day, 
but  several  of  our  party  were  called  up  to  converse 
with  him,  telling  him  our  past  experience. 

Little  by  little  they  told  us  their  terrible  story,  how, 
fifteen  in  number,  they  had  left  the  Yorktown  in  a  boat 
to  reconnoitre  at  the  mouth  of  Baler  River,  how  they 
had  gone  just  a  little  too  far  and  fallen  into  an  ambush, 
seven  of  the  fifteen  to  drop  before  the  fire  of  an  invisible 
enemy. 

178 


Off  for  the  North 

With  the  exception  of  T.  Ellsworth,  coxswain  of  the 
captured  boat;  W.  Walton,  chief  quartermaster  of  the 
Yorktown,  and  P.  Vaudoit,  sailmaker's  mate,  three  old 
sailors  of  many  years'  experience,  the  rest  were  but 
boys  on  their  first  cruise. 

Besides  L.  Edwards,  landsman,  a  native  of  Indiana, 
there  were  A.  Peterson  and  T.  Anderson,  the  former 
a  Calif ornian,  the  latter  from  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  both  ap- 
prentices, seventeen  and  nineteen  respectively,  and  S. 
Brisolese,  ordinary  seaman,  a  San  Franciscan  of  eigh- 
teen years. 

On  account  of  the  great  increase  in  our  numbers 
the  cell  had  become  too  small,  so  the  alcaide  had  us 
removed  to  one  adjoining,  twice  the  size,  where  we 
were  obliged  to  use  the  bare  floor  as  a  couch.  The 
only  furniture  contained  in  our  new  lodgings  was  two 
pairs  of  stocks.  Gillmore  was  quartered  in  the  alcaide's 
rooms,  where  he  ate  and  slept. 

The  succeeding  day  brought  us  the  agreeable  sur- 
prise of  an  augmentation  of  our  daily  rations  from  five 
to  ten  cents,  or  eight  motas  each.  Lieutenant  Gillmore 
was  given  one  peseta,  double  that  of  ours. 

This  enabled  us  to  live  in  comparative  affluence. 
Each  gave  six  motas  toward  the  common  mess  fund, 
retaining  two  motas  for  private  expenses  or  desserts, 
such  as  cigars,  bananas,  mangoes,  or  pancakes  made 
of  fermented  corn  and  rice  flour  mixed.  The  latter 
deserves  mention  as  a  universal  dish  among  the  Fili- 
pinos, and  is  called  "  bebinka." 

Every  morning  early,  the  bebinka  bakers,  generally 
•women,  may  be  seen  squatting  on  their  heels  in  the 
village  plaza,  baking  "  bebinka  "  in  a  small  pan  over 
a  charcoal  fire.     Instead  of  greasing  the  pan,  they 

179 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

cover  the  bottom  with  a  piece  of  banana  leaf,  which 
prevents  the  dough  from  adhering.  Then  another  leaf 
is  placed  on  top  and  covered  by  the  bottom  of  another 
pan  in  which  is  another  charcoal  fire,  on  Dutch-oven 
principle. 

Even  the  high-class  natives,  if  no  white  friends  are 
present,  will  squat  down  beside  the  baker  and  eat  a 
few  of  her  bebinkas,  covered  with  shredded  cocoanut. 
The  universal  price  of  them,  all  over  Luzon,  is  one 
mota,  but  I  have  seldom  seen  them  sold  in  Manila. 

A  small  fruit-store  or  canteen  was  kept  by  an  old 
woman  inside  the  prison  yard,  just  outside  our  door, 
and  here  the  extra  two  motas  were  generally  spent. 
This  woman  made  deHcious  soups  of  catfish,  pigs' 
blood,  and  snails,  but  it  was  a  tremendously  expensive 
dish.  One  of  our  mess  tins  full  cost  four  motas. 
Thinking  it  would  be  more  advantageous  to  buy  whole- 
sale, we  clubbed  together  once  and  bought  thirteen 
motas'  worth.  The  result  was  only  two  platefuls.  Ex- 
perience soon  taught  us  that  retail  was  the  cheapest 
method,  so  when  next  we  clubbed  together  we  made 
thirteen  separate  trips  to  the  store,  purchasing  one 
mota's  worth  each  time.  This  brought  us  four  plate- 
fuls, or  a  gain  of  one  hundred  per  cent,  over  the  whole- 
sale method.  Domestic  economy  demanded  close 
study  and  attention  in  those  days. 

To  pass  away  time  I  now  commenced  to  write  up  a 
sort  of  account  or  record  of  events  of  my  past  ex- 
perience, in  diary  form,  spending  a  mota  each  day  for 
paper.  I  remember  I  had  finished  it  up  to  date,  when, 
dissatisfied  with  a  certain  portion  of  it,  I  tore  out  sev- 
eral leaves  in  order  to  rewrite  them.  These  leaves  con- 
tained an  account  of  the  retreat  from  Malolos,  com- 

i8o 

/ 


Off  for  the  North 

mencing  with  the  words:  "  Men,  women,  and  children 
are  fleeing  before  the  advancing  Americans!  "  Having 
rewritten  them,  I  crumpled  up  the  old  pages  and  threw 
them  under  the  wooden  floor  of  our  cell.  Those  poor, 
soiled,  and  torn  pages  were  the  only  lines  of  my  diary 
ever  to  reach  American  eyes.  A  month  later  they  were 
found  by  some  of  the  Minnesota  Volunteers,  and  in 
due  time  appeared  in  the  American  papers,  but,  being 
unsigned,  the  writer  was,  of  course,  unknown.  Had 
I  known  how  soon  that  paper  would  fall  into  the  hands 
of  friends,  what  would  I  not  have  written  on  it?  To 
think  that  we  all  could  have  sent  word  home  by  sim- 
ply throwing  messages  down  into  that  hole,  when  they 
would  have  reached  their  destination  as  safely  as  Uncle 
Sam's  mails  could  have  taken  them — what  a  chance 
missed!  Still,  they  might  have  fallen  under  the  strict 
censorship  of  General  Otis. 

That  reminds  me  of  a  letter  that  I  really  did  write 
in  the  hope  it  would  go  through.  Our  old  friend  and 
benefactor,  Sefior  Ramon  Rey,  appeared  one  day 
among  us.  Being  a  civilian,  he  received  no  rations, 
but  the  alcaide  permitted  him  to  shelter  himself  under 
the  prison  roof  with  his  countrymen.  Poor  old 
Ramon,  now  a  prisoner,  in  former  times  once  had  been 
governor  or  alcaide  of  this  same  prison.  I  went  per- 
sonally over  to  thank  the  old  man  for  his  former  kind- 
ness, and  he  received  me  with  an  effusiveness  truly 
Spanish,  which  I  believe  in  this  case  was  sincere.  He 
was  so  sick  that  he  could  hardly  walk.  Supporting 
himself  by  grasping  my  arm,  and  a  cane  in  the  other 
hand,  he  hobbled  out  into  a  small  outhouse,  where,  he 
said,  he  wished  to  speak  a  few  words  with  me.  Im- 
agine my  surprise  when  the  old  gentleman  suddenly 

i8i 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

dropped  the  cane,  and,  loosening  his  hold  on  my  arm, 
straightened  up  fully  six  inches  and  went  through  the 
steps  of  a  Spanish  fandango.  In  a  moment  he  ex- 
plained all.  "  I  am  feigning  sickness,"  he  went  on, 
"  so  that  when  the  Americans  advance  I  shall  be  left 
behind.  If  you  wish  to  send  a  few  lines  through,  in- 
trust them  to  me,  and  I  will  see  that  they  are  de- 
livered." 

Returning  to  the  cell  I  wrote  a  short  note  addressed 
to  the  Commander  of  the  American  forces  in  the 
Philippines,  giving  a  list  of  our  names,  our  treatment, 
and  an  appeal  for  an  effort  to  exchange  us,  as  the 
alcaide  intimated  that  the  Insurgent  leaders  certainly 
would  give  their  consent.  Then  going  up  on  the 
veranda  I  informed  Lieutenant  Gillmore  of  this  op- 
portunity. Coming  down  into  our  cell  to  escape  ob- 
servation, he  wrote  a  list  of  our  names,  adding  that  he 
was  well,  addressing  his  letter  to  his  brother-in-law, 
Major  Price,  in  Manila.  Both  these  letters  I  gave  to 
Ramon  Rey. 

The  old  Spaniard's  clever  trick  was  successful.  He 
was  subsequently  left  behind,  when  upon  the  approach 
of  the  Americans  we  had  to  set  out  on  our  long  and 
weary  march  to  the  north.  He  delivered  the  letters 
into  the  hands  of  an  American  officer,  who  in  his  turn 
gave  them  to  General  Lawton.  Both  were  forwarded 
to  General  Otis,  who  did  not  make  mine  public. 
Copies  of  both  letters,  however,  had  been  taken  and 
sent  by  a  newspaper  correspondent  to  the  papers  he 
represented,  and  a  month  later  were  published  in  a 
number  of  American  dailies.  Ramon  Rey  was  re- 
warded for  his  kindness  to  us,  being  made  official 
guide  and  interpreter,  first  to  General  Lawton  and 

182 


Off  for  the  North 

afterward  to  General  Young  in  the  northern  cam- 
paign. 

One  day  fifty  Negritos  were  added  to  the  constantly 
growing  number  of  native  prisoners.  These  Negritos 
are  a  race  of  small  negroes  that  inhabit  the  wild  moun- 
tain regions  of  some  parts  of  Luzon.  They  are  sup- 
posed to  be  the  remnants  of  the  aborigines  that  were 
conquered  by  the  Malays  and  driven  from  the  low- 
lands into  the  mountains. 

These  new  arrivals  had  been  persuaded  to  join  the 
Insurgent  army  as  a  company  armed  with  spears  and 
arrows.  They  had  evidently  not  damaged  the  United 
States  army  to  the  same  extent  that  they  had  suffered 
themselves,  for,  discouraged  at  shooting  arrows  at 
people  they  couldn't  hurt,  and  not  being  able  to  ward 
off  those  big  four-inch  shells  with  their  shields  made 
of  caribao  hide,  they  simply  told  Aguinaldo  that  the 
Tagalogs  might  continue  the  war  if  so  inclined,  but 
fighting  people  that  couldn't  even  be  seen  was  not  to 
their  liking,  so  they  requested  the  Honorable  Presi- 
dent to  accept  their  resignation.  But  the  Honorable 
President  didn't  see  it  in  that  light:  if  they  wouldn't 
fight,  he  would  send  them  to  the  calaboose,  which  he 
did. 

I  had,  never  seen  a  Negrito  before,  so  wa5  much  in- 
terested. They  were  not  well  built  and  almost  dwarf- 
ish in  stature.  Their  skins  were  coal  black  and  their 
hair  crisp  and  kinky  like  that  of  an  African  negro,  but 
their  heads  were  better  formed,  I  think,  not  being  so 
egg-shaped.  They  are  practically  primitive  savages, 
their  only  approach  to  clothing  being  a  cloth  round 
their  loins.    Their  teeth  they  file  to  sharp  points. 

We  made  the  acquaintance  of  their  chief,  whom  we 
183 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

distinguished  as  such  by  two  corporal's  stripes  being 
tied  round  his  bare  arm  and  a  dilapidated  high  stove- 
pipe hat  tilted  on  one  side  of  his  woolly  head.  He  paid 
us  an  official  visit  accompanied  by  his  two  lieutenants 
or  sub-chiefs,  evidently  considering  us  the  representa- 
tives of  the  great  American  nation.  As  plenipotentiary 
of  the  great  Negrito  tribe  he  informed  us  that  his  peo- 
ple would  receive  the  American  Government  with  sat- 
isfaction, and  wished  only  the  most  friendly  relations 
to  exist  between  them.  All  this  he  told  us  by  signs, 
our  conversation  being  somewhat  hampered  by  the  fact 
that  the  chief  spoke  no  Spanish  and  very  little  Tagalog, 
and  we,  speaking  but  poor  Spanish  and  no  Tagalog, 
didn't  even  know  how  to  laugh  in  his  native  dialect. 

This,  of  course,  prevented  us  from  going  into  any 
deep  political  discussions,  such  as  the  representatives 
of  two  such  mighty  people  otherwise  would  have  done; 
but  the  best  of  feelings  prevailed,  peace  was  declared 
once  more  between  the  United  States  and  the  Negritos 
of  Luzon.  We  shook  hands  on  that,  and  the  swarthy 
diplomat  took  his  leave  with  one  of  our  ten-for-a-cent 
cigars  between  his  teeth. 

On  May  3d  the  long-dreaded  orders  came;  we  were 
to  march!  The  Americans  were  misbehaving  them- 
selves again  at  the  front,  and  we  were  obliged  to  move 
on.  But  before  leaving,  knowing  the  good  that  had 
resulted  from  doing  so  in  Malolos,  Huber  once  more 
wrote  our  names  on  the  wall,  now  fourteen  in  number, 
and  there  they  remained  to  be  seen  by  the  advancing 
Americans. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  each  received  four  days' 
rations,  and  together  with  the  Spaniards  were  lined 
up  and  marched  out  into  the  street,  the  first  time  we 

184 


Off  for  the  North 

had  passed  through  the  prison  gates  since  our  arrival. 
Evidently  they  had  received  an  earlier  warning  than 
at  Malolos,  for  the  confusion  there  prevalent  was  not 
visible  here.  But  the  inhabitants  were,  nevertheless, 
making  preparations  to  leave. 

Guarded  by  Aguinaldo's  own  body-guards,  we  were 
by  them  escorted  as  far  as  the  river  (Rio  Grande),  a 
short  distance  from  the  town  where  a  squad  of  twenty 
regulars  took  charge  of  us  and  ferried  us  across.  Gill- 
more  went  ahead  in  a  carromata  with  a  Filipino  cap- 
tain. Then,  after  jumping  ashore  on  the  other  bank, 
we  started  forward  at  the  old  familiar  command, 
"  sigue,"  on  our  march,  not  knowing  for  how  long  or 
where  to,  only  realizing  that  our  backs  were  turned 
toward  friends  and  liberty,  and  our  faces  toward  an 
unknown  region  and  captivity! 


j8s 


CHAPTER  XIV 
ON  THE  MARCH 

A  night  in  the  jungle — Carabao — San  Quintin — ^The  Spanish 
rebel,  but  are  subdued — A  marriage  ceremony — Native  clergy 
— We  retrace  our  steps — Northward  again — Pangasinan — 
The  Igorrotes — The  first  of  the  Ilocano  provinces- — Change  of 
dialect — Aringay — Don  Juan  Baltazar. 

IT  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the  church 
tower  of  San  Isidro  disappeared  from  our  view 
behind  the  fluffy  tops  of  the  bamboo  jungles, 
and,  excepting  an  hour's  rest  at  noon  in  a  small  town 
called  Lopez  on  the  map,  we  tramped  the  muddy 
roads  all  day. 

The  rainy  season  had  now  set  in,  transforming  the 
fields  into  swamps  and  lakes.  In  places  large  lagoons 
stretched  across  the  road,  through  which  we  were 
obliged  to  wade,  the  water  sometimes  up  to  our  shoul- 
ders. All  but  the  officer  who  had  us  in  charge,  and 
Lieutenant  Gillmore  (they  being  mounted  on  native 
ponies),  were  on  foot,  even  the  guards  who  passed 
through  the  same  hardships  side  by  side  with  us,  hav- 
ing no  advantage  over  the  prisoners — all  day,  tramp, 
tramp,  through  rain  and  slush.  We  crossed  through 
marshy  jungles  darkened  by  the  thick,  tropical  foliage 
overhead,  the  inky  pools  through  which  we  waded  sug- 
gesting alligators  too  vividly  to  be  pleasant.  From  the 
limbs  overhead  long  creepers  hung  down  which  seemed 
at  times  to  change  into  writhing  pythons  ready  to 

i86 


On  the  March 

drop  on  us.  Above  the  pattering  of  the  rain  on  the 
leaves  overhead  we  heard  the  shrill  cries  of  monkeys, 
seeming  to  jeer  at  us.  Boats  would  decidedly  have 
been  more  suitable  for  these  parts  than  our  mode  of 
travelling. 

Night  overtook  us  in  the  jungle,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  seek  shelter  under  the  old  nipa  roof  of  an 
unfinished  hut.  Besides  this  there  was  another  bam- 
boo hut,  inhabited  by  a  family.  Here  the  Filipino 
officer  found  quarters  for  the  night,  inviting  Gillmore 
to  share  them  with  him. 

The  old  nipa  roof  was  not  an  unqualified  success  as 
a  shelter  from  the  heavy  tropical  rain.  A  steady  little 
stream  pouring  down  on  my  chest  managed  also  in 
some  miraculous  way  to  trickle  around  the  back  of 
my  neck  and  down  my  spinal  column.  All  sorts  of  in- 
sects had  sought  shelter  about  my  person,  and  seemed 
to  be  fighting  among  themselves  for  the  best  places. 
And  that  was  the  evening  of  my  twenty-first  birthday. 
Thus  did  I  celebrate  my  coming  of  age. 

Before  dawn  next  morning  reveille  sounded,  calling 
us  up  to  resume  the  struggle  against  water,  slush,  and 
mud.  On  we  toiled,  with  no  other  object  than  to  in- 
crease the  distance  between  ourselves  and  friends. 
Our  hearts  were  as  heavy  as  the  mud  that  clung  to 
our  bodies. 

Many  times  we  were  obliged  to  give  Blondin  per- 
formances over  swollen  streams  on  bamboo  poles,  sub- 
stitutes for  bridges,  and  at  other  times,  when  wading 
through  lagoons  of  mud  and  water  a  man  would  slip 
and  entirely  disappear  from  view,  to  reappear  again  a 
moment  later  with  a  brown  coating  all  over  his  body 
like  a  chocolate  tart. 

187 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Finally  our  troubles  terminated  on  our  arrival  at  a 
town  called  Aliaga.  We  were  kindly  received  by  the 
local  authorities,  who  sheltered  us  from  the  weather 
in  the  best  room  of  the  presidency. 

On  the  morning  of  May  5th  the  rain  had  ceased  and 
we  made  a  four-hours'  march  over  a  flat  country,  fol- 
lowing a  trail  through  a  coarse  species  of  wire  grass 
ten  feet  high  in  some  places.  So  dense  was  this  grass 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  narrow  trail  cut  through, 
headway  would  have  been  impossible.  At  noon  we 
reached  Santo  Domingo,  remaining  there  for  the  rest 
of  the  day. 

May  6th  we  left  Santo  Domingo  early  and  travelled 
all  day.  This  was  not  on  account  of  the  distance  cov- 
ered, but  on  account  of  the  slow  gait  of  the  two  car- 
retones  that  accompanied  us,  one  containing  Lieuten- 
ant Gillmore  and  young  Edwards,  the  latter  showing 
symptoms  of  dysentery.  The  other  was  loaded  with 
the  baggage  of  the  fifty  Spaniards,  such  as  cooking 
pots,  blankets,  etc.  These  carts,  the  wheels  of  which 
are  of  solid  wood,  resembling  giant  ginger-snaps, 
were  drawn  by  two  water-buffaloes,  or,  as  called  by 
the  Filipinos,  carabaos.  They  are  a  species  of  cattle 
with  very  little  hair  on  their  bodies.  Whether  the  cli- 
mate of  the  Philippines  was  made  for  the  carabao,  or 
the  carabao  was  made  for  the  climate,  I  cannot  say,  but 
the  fact  is  they  are  wonderfully  adapted  for  each  other. 
Those  mud  lakes  and  swampy  puddles,  so  abundant  in 
the  rainy  season,  are  the  source  of  much  comfort  to 
the  water-buffalo,  who  delights  in  lying  in  them  for 
hours,  nothing  but  his  head  visible.  Then  when  he 
rises,  the  sun  dries  the  mud  on  his  elephantine  hide 
into  a  thick  coating,  serving  as  a  protection  from  flies 

188 


On  the  March 

and  mosquitoes.  The  natives  use  the  carabao  as  a 
draught  animal,  but  he  soon  drops  from  fatigue  unless 
allowed  to  roll  in  a  puddle  at  least  once  in  two  hours. 
Being  permitted  to  do  this  for  ten  minutes,  he  rises 
again  and  resumes  his  labor  with  original  strength. 

On  account  of  these  frequent  baths  of  our  two  cara- 
baos  our  progress  was  slow,  but  as  the  road  lay  through 
a  majestic  forest  of  gigantic  trees,  the  walk  was  neither 
hot  nor  unpleasant.  We  spent  the  night  in  a  small 
town  called  Obispo,  on  the  edge  of  the  foot-hills. 

We  continued  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  over  a 
range  of  rugged  foot-hills.  In  several  places  we  passed 
trenches  built  across  the  road  by  the  Filipinos  in  the 
insurrection  of  1897.  We  saw  at  times  charred  tim- 
bers protruding  from  the  low  underbrush,  all  that  re- 
mained of  whole  villages  to  which  the  Spaniards  had 
applied  the  torch. 

Stopping  for  two  hours  at  San  Jose,  a  small  moun- 
tain village  on  the  edge  of  the  hills,  we  resumed  our 
march  in  the  afternoon,  reaching  Humingan  at  dusk, 
once  more  on  the  plain. 

May  8th  at  dawn  we  left  Humingan,  and,  marching 
two  hours,  reached  San  Quintin.  The  municipal  au- 
thorities here  received  us  coldly,  giving  us  nothing  to 
eat.  At  Humingan  the  soldiers,  who  had  until  then 
acted  as  our  escort,  turned  us  over  to  the  local  presi- 
dent, they  themselves  returning  to  the  front,  south- 
ward. We  were  from  now  on  entirely  in  the  hands  of 
the  local  presidents,  each  one  sending  us  on  to  the 
next  town  on  the  line  of  travel,  with  the  police,  who 
turned  us  over  to  the  next  president,  and  so  on.  We 
were  no  longer  in  the  hands  of  the  military. 

As  we  passed  through  the  different  towns  we  had 
189 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

been  joined  by  new  prisoners  every  day  until  now, 
upon  arriving  at  San  Quintin,  we  found  at  least  seven 
hundred  prisoners  concentrated.  But  the  Filipinos 
came  near  regretting  this.  Emboldened  by  their  num- 
bers, and  half  desperate  with  hunger,  the  Spaniards 
rushed  upon  the  presidency  of  San  Quintin  the  day 
after  our  arrival,  overpowered  the  police,  and  took  pos- 
session of  a  carreton  of  rice.  A  Spanish  officer,  know- 
ing the  consequences  of  an  uprising,  cowed  the  caza- 
dores  down  by  his  authority,  and  ordered  them  to 
return  the  captured  arms  and  rice.  The  former  they 
sheepishly  returned  to  the  discomfited  police,  but  the 
latter  they  retained;  on  that  point  they  remained  firm. 
In  the  evening  a  large  force  of  bolomen  came  into 
town,  and  the  President,  meek  as  a  child  during  the 
day,  resumed  his  former  insolent  bearing. 

At  that  time  we  considered  that  Spanish  officer  a 
coward,  but  since  then  I  have  changed  my  judgment. 
Supposing  the  Spaniards  had  succeeded  in  banding 
themselves  together  in  a  body,  armed  with  half  a 
dozen  Remingtons  and  a  few  bolos,  what  could  they 
have  accomplished?  To  reach  the  nearest  American 
forces  we  should  have  been  obliged  to  march  back  to 
San  Isidro  and  fight  our  way  through  the  Insurgent 
lines.  We  should  have  had  to  traverse  the  entire  width 
of  Nueva  Ecija,  an  enemy's  country.  It  was  a  hopeless 
undertaking,  and  that  officer  acted  wisely  and  for  the 
best. 

We  spent  four  days  in  San  Quintin,  which  were  four 
days  of  hunger.  Fortunately  we  were  not  confined, 
but  allowed  to  wander  about  the  streets  during  the 
day,  and,  although  we  did  not  actually  beg,  accepted 
offerings  of  bananas,  com,  and  bebinkas  from  those  of 

190 


On  the  March 

the  inhabitants  whose  pity  became  aroused  at  our  mis- 
erable condition.  In  this  place  Lieutenant  Gillmore 
was  forced  to  sleep  on  a  table,  the  rest  of  us  stretched 
about  on  the  floor.  This  was  singular,  as  the  lieutenant 
had  until  then  always  been  treated  with  due  courtesy. 

While  here  I  witnessed  a  marriage  ceremony  be- 
tween a  boy  of  eleven  and  a  girl  of  ten.  The  parents 
were  superintending  the  whole  afifair,  for  it  was  evi- 
dently not  according  to  the  wishes  of  either  bride  or 
groom,  who  both  wept  dismally  while  the  Filipino 
priest  spliced  the  holy  knot.    . 

Native  priests  were  to  be  seen  in  all  the  towns. 
Hearing  so  much  said  against  the  friars  I  inquired  why 
they  were  tolerated,  but  was  informed  that  they  were 
not  friars,  simply  ministers  of  the  Catholic  religion. 
They  had,  the  majority  of  them,  at  one  time  been 
sacristans  to  the  Spanish  friars,  but  now  took  the  friars' 
places,  living  on  the  small  marriage  fees,  gratuities  for 
mass,  etc.  Many  of  them  were  good  and  pious  men, 
and  those  that  were  hypocrites  could  at  least  do  no 
serious  harm. 

We  were  beginning  to  believe  that  San  Quintin  was 
to  be  our  home  for  some  time,  but  on  the  morning  of 
the  1 2th,  reveille  called  us  out  early  to  prepare  for  the 
march  again.  Once  more  we  formed  in  the  plaza,  but 
to  our  amazement,  instead  of  continuing  to  the  north- 
ward, the  police,  taking  the  lead,  escorted  us  out  of 
town  by  the  same  road  we  had  entered,  toward  the 
south — and  friends.  Cheer  after  cheer  arose.  "  Viva 
la  Libertad !  "  the  Spaniards  cried.  The  war  was  over, 
they  said,  and  we  were  to  be  delivered  to  the  Ameri- 
cans!   Viva!  viva! 

Arriving  at  Humingan,  we  rested  but  a  short  time; 
191 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

the  Spaniards  could  hardly  he  restrained.  Songs 
floated  up  in  the  air,  and  our  steps  were  as  light  as 
our  hearts. 

We  had  just  about  gone  half  way  to  San  Jose  when 
an  officer  on  horseback  dashed  up  to  the  head  of  the 
column,  and,  coming  to  a  sudden  halt,  he  roared  out 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Alto ! "  All  came  to  a  halt. 
Songs  and  laughter  died  suddenly  out,  while  wonder 
and  amazement  showed  on  each  face.  Then,  rising  in 
his  stirrups,  he  cried  out  again,  "Media  vuelta!" 
Slowly,  heavily,  the  cazadores  turned  about;  faces 
gloomy;  all  silent.  Evening  found  us  again  at  San 
Quintin. 

Many  times  afterward  we  discussed  that  half-day's 
backward  march,  but  could  never  find  a  proper  solu- 
tion to  it.  Some  believed  that  negotiations  to  deliver 
us  up  had  really  been  entered  into,  others  again  that 
they  had  wanted  to  switch  us  off  into  the  pass  some- 
where close  to  San  Jose,  leading  up  into  the  mountains 
to  Bayombong. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  14th  we  left  San  Quin- 
tin the  second  time,  but  bound  northward.  The  road 
lay  parallel  to  a  range  of  mountains  close  by  on  our 
right,  through  a  densely  timbered  country.  From 
limbs  of  lofty  trees  we  noticed  many  bats  suspended  of 
the  size  of  chickens.  Two  hours'  march  brought  us  to 
Tayug,  a  town  notable  for  the  size  and  grandeur  of 
its  church  and  convent.  We  had  now  left  the  province 
of  Nueva  Ecija  and  were  in  Pangasinan,  the  natives  of 
which  province  speak  a  dialect  entirely  different  from 
Tagalog. 

From  now  on  our  march  was  an  uneventful  one  for 
some  time.     Each  day  we  walked  the  distance  from 

192 


On  the  March 

one  town  to  the  next,  always  escorted  by  the  police. 
The  Spaniards  had  been  broken  up  into  small  bands, 
some  of  which  went  ahead,  while  others  lagged  behind 
a  day  or  even  two.  We  spent  a  night  successively  in 
the  towns  of  Ansingan,  Binalonan,  Pozorrubio,  Alava, 
and  Rosario,  arriving  at  the  latter  town  on  May  i8th. 
This  brought  us  across  the  province  of  Pangasinan. 
We  were  now  to  cross  over  into  Union,  the  first  of 
the  Ilocos  provinces  of  which  we  had  heard  so  much 
from  the  Spaniards,  where  the  natives  were  said  to  be 
kindly  disposed  toward  the  white  race. 

Since  leaving  San  Quintin  we  had  always  travelled 
along  the  foot  of  the  mountain  range  on  our  right,  as 
close  as  possible,  without  actually  entering  it;  conse- 
quently we  saw  many  of  the  Igorrotes,  as  the  wild 
tribes  inhabiting  this  part  of  the  mountains  of  Luzon 
are  called. 

The  Igorrotes  are  by  no  means  similar  to  the  Ne- 
gritos, except  in  the  absence  of  all  manner  of  super- 
fluity of  dress,  barring  a  breech-clout  of  the  most 
economical  dimensions.  Their  straight  blue-black  hair 
is  long  and  coiled  up  loosely  on  the  top  of  the  head. 
Their  color  is  of  a  light  cofTee-brown,  and  differs  but 
slightly  from  the  average  Tagalog.  Most  of  them  are 
tattooed,  some  even  in  their  faces.  In  physical  appear- 
ance they  are  small,  but  well  shaped,  every  muscle  de- 
veloped in  symmetrical  proportions,  and  compare 
favorably  with  the  Negritos,  whose  legs  seem  to  have 
an  almost  uniform  thickness  from  hip  to  calf.  What 
caused  us  to  wonder  was  the  fact  that  we  seldom  ob- 
served an  Igorrote  who  was  not  leading  a  string  of 
dogs.  Inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  dog  forms  the 
favorite  dish  in  an  Igorrote  bill  of  fare,  and,  to  obtain  a 

193 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

sufficiency,  they  often  come  down  to  the  low-lands 
to  trade  horses,  calves,  goats,  copper  ore,  and  even 
gold  dust  for  curs  that  would  hardly  be  permitted  to 
exist  in  our  country. 

The  religious  belief  of  these  Igorrotes  is  of  the 
vaguest  order,  tainted  with  gross  superstitions  of  seem- 
ingly Mohammedan  origin,  and  all  the  efforts  of  the 
friars  to  convert  them  have  signally  failed.  I  am  told 
that  the  monks  who  went  up  into  the  mountains  for 
this  purpose  had  a  nasty  habit  of  disappearing.  Finally 
the  friars  decided  to  leave  them  entirely  alone.  These 
people  live  in  small  villages,  each  governed  by  the 
oldest  male  inhabitant.  The  villages  are  familiarly 
known  by  the  Spanish  name  "  rancherias  "  throughout 
the  islands. 

On  the  morning  of  the  19th  we  left  Rosario  and 
struck  into  a  little  range  of  foot-hills.  On  reaching  the 
ridge  an  exclamation  of  joyous  surprise  escaped  from 
many  throats  as  we  beheld  the  blue  waters  of  the  China 
Sea  in  the  distance,  but,  on  descending  into  a  valley 
soon  after,  we  lost  sight  of  it  again.  The  beauty  of  this 
little  valley  still  lingers  fondly  in  my  memory.  On 
both  sides  rose  up  green  but  steep  and  densely  wooded 
hills,  while  through  the  centre  rushed  a  sparkling 
river,  here  and  there  dashing  over  bowlders  or  strug- 
gling through  rocky  narrows  with  great  noise  and  cor- 
responding foam.  Extending  from  the  hills  to  the 
banks,  on  either  side  of  the  river,  we  observed  highly 
cultivated  fields  of  rice,  corn,  sugar-cane,  tobacco,  and 
banana-trees,  subdivided  here  and  there  by  hedges  of 
the  maguey  plant.  A  number  of  little  villages  dotted 
this  beautiful  landscape,  and  those  through  which  we 
passed  had  a  more  thriving  aspect  than  those  of  the 

194 


On  the  March 

Tagalog  country.  We  were  now  among  the  Ilocanos, 
and  I  confess  that  the  impression  of  superior  thrifti- 
ness  remains  with  me  still. 

As  we  passed,  the  "  tauis  "  came  out  on  the  road 
from  their  fields  and  offered  us  sugar-cane  and  tobacco 
leaves.  Again  the  dialect  had  changed.  A  mota  was 
now  a  "  ciping,"  and  a  banana,  which  in  Tagalog  is 
"  saaging,"  was  now  only  to  be  had  by  asking  for 
"  saaba."  When  stopping  at  the  huts  for  water,  the 
Tagalog  word  "  toobig  "  was  no  longer  understood;  it 
was  now  "danom."  And  so  with  the  whole  dialect,  en- 
tirely different;  and  a  Tagalog  taui  and  an  Ilocano  of 
the  same  class,  meeting,  and  unacquainted  with  Span- 
ish, would  understand  one  another  as  well  as  a  Lap- 
lander and  a  native  of  the  Samoan  Islands. 

Before  sunset  we  reached  a  small  town  nestled  be- 
tween the  ridges  and  sheltered  by  stately  trees;  this 
was  Kabao.  Here  was  stationed  a  garrison  that 
showed  us  but  scant  courtesy.  At  evening,  on  the 
following  day,  we  left  Kabao,  and  by  the  light  of  the 
full  moon  continued  our  march  along  a  road  that  fol- 
lowed the  banks  of  the  river.  Softened  by  the  moon- 
light, the  scenery  became  like  one  of  fairyland.  The 
foliage  met  overhead,  and  through  the  trees  we  could 
distinguish  the  spray  leaping  into  the  air,  as  if  im- 
patient at  encountering  the  stony  obstacles  in  the 
numerous  cascades,  and  sparkling  like  diamonds  in  the 
magic  light  of  the  moon.  All  this  might  possibly  have 
inspired  me  into  a  poetic  effusion  on  the  spot,  had  I 
been  given  to  the  courting  of  the  Muses;  but  the 
day  before  I  had  been  obliged  to  abandon  the  last  rem- 
nant of  my  shoes,  and  the  aesthetic  pleasure  I  felt  at  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery  was  seriously  impaired  by  a  hid- 

195 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

den  dread  of  stepping  too  hard  upon  the  glorious  land- 
scape, thereby  causing  to  course  through  my  mind 
thoughts  decidedly  unpoetic. 

In  a  couple  of  hours  we  arrived  at  Aringay,  where 
we  were  conducted  by  the  police  to  the  usual  large  con- 
vent of  the  town.  Here  we  were  delivered  into  the 
hands  of  the  local  police  sergeant,  and  taken  upstairs 
into  what  had  formerly  been  the  padres'  dormitory. 
Hardly  had  we  seated  ourselves,  when  a  tall,  stalwart, 
and  well-built  Filipino,  evidently  a  mestizo,  entered, 
the  first  real  Ilocano  presidente  we  had  met  on  our  line 
of  march,  and  of  whom  the  Spaniards  had  spoken  to  us 
in  terms  of  praise.  There  was  nothing  of  Spanish 
polish,  which  too  often  borders  on  the  hypocritical,  in 
his  manner,  but  the  impression  made  by  the  sincere 
friendliness  of  his  greeting  could  not  have  been  pro- 
duced by  a  million  bows  and  soft  words.  If  Don  Juan 
Baltazar  is  a  fair  representative  of  the  Ilocanos,  then 
they  are  indeed  a  noble  race! 


196 


CHAPTER   XV 
THE   PEOPLE  OF  ILOCOS 

Don  Juan  entertains  us — Manufacture  of  indigo — Don  Juan  dis- 
cusses politics — Dr.  Jose  Luna — Our  salaries  increased — The 
sea — San  Fernando  de  Union — Namacpacan  and  Colonel 
Santa  Romana — The  colonel's  story — A  friar's  opinion  of  the 
Filipino  people — A  letter  of  recommendation — Candon  and 
Pedro  Legaspi — Santa  and  the  Abra  River — Vigan  and  our 
journey's  end. 

NEVER  in  all  our  experiences  had  we  been 
treated  as  in  Aringay,  with  such  hospitality 
and  generosity.  Baltazar  was  highly  indig- 
nant on  learning  how  we  had  fared  since  leaving  San 
Isidro. 

"  Aguinaldo,"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  a  good  man,  and 
did  he  know  the  truth,  would  be  as  angry  as  I  am.  His 
orders  are  that  you  be  well  cared  for,  and  treated  with 
all  due  consideration  by  all  the  municipal  presidents 
through  whose  towns  you  pass.  It  is  not  his  fault  that 
his  orders  are  not  obeyed  to  the  letter,  but,  hereafter, 
you  will  fare  better  since  you  are  now  in  the  Ilocano 
country." 

Baltazar  insisted  upon  our  resting  a  day  in  his  town, 
and  this  we  were  only  too  glad  to  do.  All  of  the  next 
day  we  wandered  freely  about  the  town  in  twos  and 
threes,  entering  native  huts  on  the  numerous  invita- 
tions of  their  occupants.    We  were  the  honored  guests 

197 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

of  the  town,  as  such  the  President  had  declared  us, 
and  the  simple  "  tauis  "  considered  his  word  as  law. 

By  this  time  those  of  us  who  had  been  captured  be- 
fore the  outbreak  of  hostilities  spoke  Spanish  fairly 
well,  and  this  seemed  to  highly  please  Baltazar.  As 
I  asked  him  a  great  many  questions  on  resources  and 
products  of  the  country,  customs  of  the  people,  etc., 
he  became  interested  in  me  and  ended  up  by  offering 
to  retain  me  that  I  might  live  with  him  and  teach  him 
English.  So  persistent  was  he  in  his  persuasions  that 
I  could  not  doubt  his  sincerity.  Several  of  my  com- 
panions advised  me  to  stay,  as  I  thus  later  might  gain 
an  opportunity  to  escape,  but,  as  I  could  not  then  hon- 
orably do  so,  I  preferred  not  to  be  separated  from  the 
main  party.  It  was  a  great  temptation,  and  only  the 
fear  of  having  my  motive  misconstrued  at  some  future 
day  kept  me  from  accepting  Baltazar's  generous  offer. 

The  President  was  very  talkative,  however,  and, 
sitting  in  reclining  chairs  under  the  trees  in  front  of 
the  convent  after  the  siesta,  smoking  and  conversing, 
he  told  me  his  history.  His  father  had  been  a  well-to- 
do  French  planter,  his  mother  a  native;  thus  Don 
Juan  himself  was  a  French  mestizo.  At  an  early  age  he 
had  gone  to  sea,  consequently  knew  something  of  the 
outside  world.  Returning  home  some  years  later  he 
found  himself  an  orphan,  the  owner  of  a  large  planta- 
tion. Since  then  he  had  devoted  himself  exclusively 
to  the  raising  of  tobacco,  cofifee,  indigo,  sugar-cane, 
and  the  manufacture  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  wine  made 
of  sugar-cane  and  other  ingredients,  his  own  inven- 
tion, and  for  which  he  had  been  awarded  a  medal  at 
the  Paris  Exposition.  I  tasted  this  wine,  and  to  my 
judgment  it  seemed  to  be  a  liqueur  of  fine  flavor. 

198 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

During  the  insurrection  of  1897  he  had  been  arrested 
as  a  rebel  at  the  instigation  of  the  friars,  whose  enmity 
he  had  engendered  by  daring  to  compete  with  them  in 
the  sugar  trade,  shipping  his  goods  direct  to  foreign 
ports  instead  of  selling  to  them.  For  ten  months  he 
had  been  confined  in  Bilibid  Prison  in  Manila,  until, 
by  paying  a  large  sum  of  money,  he  secured  his  re- 
lease. 

He  had  on  his  plantation  two  sugar-mills,  one 
worked  by  steam,  the  other  by  horse-power.  Annually 
he  shipped  tons  of  the  crude  sugar  to  Manila.  He 
also  explained  the  process  of  the  manufacture  of  in- 
digo, of  which  he  produced  considerable.  The  indigo 
plant  resembles  in  general  appearance  our  alfalfa 
clover.  When  of  about  three  months'  growth  the  first 
crop  can  already  be  cut,  for  the  plant  sprouts  again, 
yielding  two  or  three  crops  a  year.  The  green  tops 
are  then  thrown  into  a  vat  and  covered  with  about 
three  inches  of  water,  the  leaves  being  held  down  by 
weights  to  prevent  them  from  floating.  In  about  two 
days  this  water  becomes  green,  and  is  then  run  off 
into  a  second  vat.  The  leaves  are  again  covered  with 
water  until  it  also  is  green.  The  discolored  water  is 
then  beaten  and  stirred  with  sticks  until  it  becomes 
full  of  little  blue  granular  lumps,  which  settle  to  the 
bottom  after  the  stirring  has  ceased.  The  water  be- 
comes now  almost  clear  again,  and  is  then  carefully 
drained  off,  leaving  the  pure  indigo  sediment  in  the 
bottom,  to  be  taken  out  and  dried. 

Baltazar  also  had  several  coffee-plantations  back  in 
the  mountains,  as  the  coffee-tree  is  not  successfully 
grown  in  the  low  lands,  requiring  a  dry  soil  and  a  cer- 
tain altitude.    "  We  do  not  understand  the  proper  cul- 

199 


/ 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

tivation  here,"  said  Baltazar;    "if  we  did,  our  soil 
would  produce  a  bean  equal  to  that  of  Java." 

Taking  me  out  into  the  middle  of  the  plaza,  the 
President  pointed  to  a  distant  mountain-peak.  "  From 
that  hill,"  he  informed  me,  "  I  myself  have  taken  out 
large  lumps  of  coal.  A  little  beyond  I  have  picked 
up  rich  copper  ore.  Gold  also  is  found  in  fair  quan- 
tities by  the  Igorrotes.  I  assure  you,"  he  continued, 
confidentially,  as  we  seated  ourselves  under  the  trees, 
"  I  am  anxious  to  see  the  American  Government 
established  here.  The  liberal  laws  of  the  United  States 
will  enable  us  to  develop  the  immense  resources  of  the 
country  to  our  own  benefit.  A  government  by  our- 
selves would  never  encourage  the  investment  of  large 
capital,  and  on  a  small  scale  we  shall  never  succeed. 
With  modern  implements  and  American  capital  the 
Philippines  promise  a  glorious  future  for  both  natives 
and  American  colonists.  But  the  only  basis  on  which 
peace  can  ever  be  firmly  established,  between  us  and 
the  Americans,  is  the  total  abolition  of  monasterial 
fraternities,  and  representation  in  your  Congress  with 
self  home  government.  On  no  other  terms  will  the  In- 
surgents ever  surrender,  and,  although  they  may  be 
conquered  by  superior  forces,  the  spark  of  rebellion  will 
always  remain  ready  to  burst  into  flame  at  every  op- 
portunity. I  feel  convinced  that  the  Americans  will 
give  us  a  good  government,  and  would  be  in  favor  of 
unconditional  surrender,  but  these  Tagalogs  are  a  stub- 
born race,  and  we  have  few  sympathies  in  common. 
With  a  native  government  they  would  rule  us  as  the 
Spaniards  ruled  them.  To  reconcile  us  with  the  cause, 
they  have  appointed  an  Ilocano  to  the  chief  command 
of  the  army,  but  peace  once  established,  we  would  be 

200 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

ground  under  the  Tagalog  heel.  Even  now  the  Mili- 
tary Governor  of  the  Ilocano  provinces,  General  Tiiio, 
is  a  Tagalog." 

I  felt  much  interested  in  Sefior  Baltazar's  conversa- 
tion, but  here  we  were  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  a 
visitor,  a  well-built,  dark,  but  handsome  full-blood  na- 
tive. His  countenance  seemed  familiar  to  me,  but, 
when  Baltazar  introduced  him  to  us  as  Dr.  Jose  Luna, 
I  remembered  the  features  of  his  brother  Antonio 
who  was  pointed  out  to  us  in  the  Malolos  gymnasium. 
Dr.  Luna  appeared  and  acted  as  though  every  inch  a 
gentleman,  asking  us  all  sorts  of  curious  but  not  rude 
questions  about  our  own  people.  Like  his  brother,  he 
wore  a  heavy  mustache,  rather  unusual  for  a  native. 

But  this  dream  could  not  last  forever,  so  on  the 
morning  of  the  22d  our  northward  march  was  again 
resumed.  Besides  supplying  us  with  food,  Baltazar  had 
given  us  a  daily  ration  of  twenty  cents,  one  peseta,  and 
Gillmore  forty  cents.  This,  he  told  us,  we  would  here- 
after receive  every  day  wherever  we  stopped,  and  so 
we  really  did  until  the  end  of  our  journey. 

It  was  with  deep  regret  that  we  bade  our  generous 
friend  farewell.  The  last  we  saw  of  him,  he  was  stand- 
ing at  the  convent  door  waving  his  hat  to  us. 

We  had  been  about  half  an  hour  on  our  march,  when 
an  abrupt  bend  in  the  road  suddenly  brought  into  view 
the  ever-welcome  sight  of  the  blue  sea  again,  at  which 
we  cheered  loudly.  Far  out  we  could  discern  the 
white  sails  of  the  fishermen's  boats,  but  we  eagerly 
scanned  the  horizon  in  the  hope  of  seeing  what  was 
not  there,  an  American  war-vessel. 

Resting  at  noon  an  hour  near  a  cluster  of  huts  close 
to  the  beach,  we  continued  in  the  afternoon  along  the 

201 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

road  always  parallel  to  the  sea-shore,  arriving  at 
Bauang  after  sunset.  The  town  was  small,  but  our  re- 
ception was  all  that  could  be  expected. 

The  morning  of  the  23d  we  made  an  early  start,  still 
continuing  on  or  near  the  sandy  beach,  with  our  bare 
feet  sometimes  washed  by  the  frothing  sea-foam.  We 
had  quite  a  little  excitement  during  the  day.  In  pass- 
ing close  to  a  fishermen's  village  we  saw  a  large  boat 
aground  in  the  shallow  water  close  to  the  beach.  The 
sails  were  set  in  order  to  dry,  the  wind  was  favorable, 
and  nobody  seemed  to  be  aboard.  Not  one  of  our 
four  guards  had  a  rifle,  and  nobody  appeared  to  be 
within  a  mile.  Bruce  and  O'Brien  cried  out,  simul- 
taneously, "  Boys,  here's  our  chance!  " 

This  inflamed  some  of  the  younger  members  of  the 
party,  and,  had  Lieutenant  Gillmore  not  restrained 
them,  that  boat  would  probably  have  been  taken  pos- 
session of.  Of  course,  it  would  have  been  a  risky  ad- 
venture, putting  out  to  sea  and  all  chances  in  favor  of 
suffering  hunger  and  thirst  before  meeting  a  vessel, 
so,  probably.  Lieutenant  Gillmore's  action  in  holding 
down  the  fiery  spirits  of  the  young  members  saved 
them  from  committing  an  act  for  which  they  afterward 
might  have  been  sorry.  I  believe  that  it  was  the  asser- 
tion of  his  calmer  judgment  that  prevented  the  at- 
tempt being  made. 

At  noon  we  reached  San  Fernando,  where  two  days 
of  close  confinement  in  the  local  prison  was  spent. 
Here  Lieutenant  Gillmore  was  confined  together  with 
us,  being  obliged  to  occupy  the  same  cell  with  us.  This 
was  rather  unusual,  as  the  native  officials  seemed  to 
have  a  deep  respect  for  gilt  braid  and  shoulder  straps. 
From  San  Isidro  to  the  end  of  our  journey,  with  very 

202 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

few  exceptions,  the  lieutenant  had  always  been  treated 
with  consideration,  and  never  allowed  to  go  hungry. 
A  horse,  or  a  carromata,  or  at  the  worst  a  carreton  was 
always  at  his  disposal,  and,  considering  the  circum- 
stances, he  never  had  any  reason  to  complain.  Being 
almost  always  invited  to  dine  with  the  local  officials  he 
was  not  obliged  to  spend  his  ration  allowance  of  two 
pesetas  daily,  being  able  to  save  up  quite  a  neat  little 
sum.  We  also  laid  by  a  little  capital,  not  knowing 
how  long  these  good  times  would  last. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  25th  we  took  a  mere  two- 
hours'  stroll  to  San  Juan,  where  we  spent  the  night. 
From  San  Juan  we  departed  early  next  morning,  and, 
resting  for  an  hour  at  noon  at  the  town  of  Dagnotan, 
continued  our  weary  march  until  nine  o'clock  that 
evening,  travelling  over  twenty  kilometres  that  day, 
which,  considering  the  condition  of  our  bare  feet,  was 
a  feat  of  wonderful  endurance,  especially  as  the  road 
was  covered  with  sharp  rocks,  shells,  and  broken  coral. 
But,  upon  reaching  our  destination,  Namacpacan,  we 
forgot  all  our  misery  in  the  friendliness  of  the  reception 
extended  to  us. 

Instead  of  being  housed  in  the  convent  or  presidency 
as  usual,  we  were  taken  into  a  private  house,  becoming 
the  guests  of  Colonel  Santa  Romana  of  the  local  mili- 
tia. He  had  already  almost  a  full  house,  there  being 
besides  us  the  two  dozen  friars  we  had  seen  pass  at  San 
Isidro,  now  on  their  way  to  the  province  of  Lepanto, 
where  the  main  body  of  the  captive  monks  was  kept. 

Our  host  (I  cannot  bring  myself  to  call  him  our 
keeper  or  jailer)  was  a  fine-looking  mestizo  of  middle 
age,  with  a  heavy  white  mustache  and  still  whiter  hair. 
Troubles  had  prematurely  aged  him.     A  casual  ob- 

203 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

server  would  have  taken  him  for  a  Spaniard,  but  he  was 
one-quarter  native.  His  wife,  also  a  mestizo,  was  much 
darker  than  her  husband.  He  was  the  father  of  a  dozen 
handsome  children  ranging  from  a  little  toddler  of  four 
to  a  young  man  of  twenty.  Hospitality  seemed  to 
amount  almost  to  a  religion  in  this  household,  for  dur- 
ing our  stay  the  sefiora  infused  such  a  sense  of  sincere 
welcome  in  her  manner  toward  us  that  I  may  safely 
assert  each  member  of  our  wayworn  little  band  forgot 
for  the  time  being  that  he  was  a  prisoner.  So  anxious 
was  she  to  please  that  she  even  took  me  aside  and 
wanted  to  know  if  the  lieutenant  would  be  offended  if 
seated  at  the  same  table  with  his  men.  She  was  so 
ignorant  of  our  "  costumbres,"  she  explained,  and  the 
thought  of  giving  offence  to  anybody  pained  her. 

But  Santa  Romana  had  a  history,  as  I  learned  from 
one  of  the  friars  with  whom  I  entered  into  conversa- 
tion. He  was  the  son  of  a  well-known  Spanish  general 
and  a  native  mother.  Dying  in  the  Philippines,  his 
father  left  him  heir  to  a  vast  estate  in  Namacpacan, 
and,  having  married,  the  young  man  settled  down  to 
pass  a  quiet  home  life  in  comfortable  circumstances. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  present  insurrection  mis- 
fortunes came.  Antonio  Rosario,  who  had  been  elected 
"  presidente  locale  "  upon  the  establishment  of  the 
revolutionary  government,  was  a  bitter  enemy  of  the 
mestizo  planter,  on  account  of  some  law-suit  they  had 
had  between  them,  and  seeing  an  opportunity  to  re- 
venge himself,  he  did  so.  Accusing  Santa  Romana  of 
being  an  "  Americanista,"  he  caused  him  and  his  two 
eldest  sons  to  be  thrown  into  prison,  and  his  property 
confiscated,  the  wife  and  smaller  children  being  cast 
out  on  public  charity. 

204 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  the  well-known 
Insurgent  leader,  General  Buencamino,  passed  through 
the  town  on  a  journey  to  the  northern  provinces. 
Buencamino  and  Santa  Romana  had  attended  the 
Military  Academy  of  Manila  together,  and,  although 
they  held  different  political  opinionj?,  were,  neverthe- 
less, warm  personal  friends.  Consequently,  upon 
reaching  Namacpacan,  Buencamino's  first  inquiry  of 
Rosario,  the  local  President,  was:  "  But  where  is  my 
friend  Santa  Romana?  His  house  used  as  soldiers' 
quarters — how  is  this?  "  The  result  was  that  Santa 
Romana  was  released,  his  house  and  property  returned, 
and  had  Buencamino  had  any  power  over  the  civil  au- 
thorities, Rosario  would  certainly  have  suffered.  But 
to  place  him  out  of  reach  of  his  enemy's  power,  he 
appointed  his  friend  colonel  of  militia,  practically  a 
sinecure,  since  he  had  no  troops  to  command.  Be- 
ing a  military  officer,  Rosario  dared  not  again  mo- 
lest him;  in  fact,  Romana  in  some  matters  had  higher 
authority  than  the  President,  which  fact  was  illus- 
trated the  day  after  our  arrival,  when  Rosario  insisted 
that  we  be  marched  around  the  plaza  that  the  people 
all  might  see  us.  Romana's  reply  was:  "  The  Ameri- 
cans are  not  a  troop  of  actors,  and,  while  under  my 
roof,  they  shall  receive  all  the  respect  due  to  helpless 
prisoners." 

It  may  not  be  inappropriate  here  to  mention  an  after- 
event  of  this  story.  The  local  President,  whom  I  have 
called  Rosario,  since  I  have  forgotten  his  real  name, 
was,  upon  the  establishment  of  an  American  garrison 
in  the  town  of  Namacpacan,  six  months  later,  arrested 
and  confined  in  the  convent  by  post-commander  Cap- 
tain Johnson  of  the  Thirty-third  United  States  Volun- 

205 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

teers,  on  complaint  of  the  citizens,  who  accused  him  of 
extortion  and  robbery.  That  he  was  a  scamp  and  a 
tyrant  in  his  small  way  was  evident,  but  the  robbery 
could  not  be  proved.  Still  Captain  Johnson  held  him 
for  some  time  on  the  entreaties  of  the  populace.  It 
was  about  this  time  that  the  writer,  some  time  free  al- 
ready, passed  through  the  town  on  his  way  to  Manila 
and  once  more  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  Sefior  Ro- 
mana,  then  elected  local  President  under  the  Ameri- 
can Government.  On  the  same  evening  of  my  arrival, 
while  Romana  and  I  were  seated  talking  about  inci- 
dents at  our  former  meeting,  the  wife  of  Rosario  en- 
tered, threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  Romana  and 
begged  him  to  speak  a  word  for  Antonio  to  the  post- 
commander.  The  tears  coursed  down  the  cheeks  of 
my  host,  and,  gently  raising  the  old  woman,  he  es- 
corted her  to  the  door,  promising  that  he  would  do  all 
in  his  power  to  comply  with  her  request.  Returning, 
he  took  me  by  the  arm,  and,  passing  me  my  hat,  said: 
"  Come,  you  must  act  as  my  interpreter.  I  wish  to 
speak  to  the  Sefior  Capitan."  Crossing  the  plaza  to 
where  Captain  Johnson's  company  was  quartered,  we 
found  the  captain  himself  in  his  quarters.  Through 
me,  as  interpreter,  Romana  begged  the  American  of- 
ficer to  release  Rosario  and  permit  him  to  return  to  his 
family.  "  Not  for  his  sake,"  he  explained,  "  but  for 
his  wife,  who  is  old  and  helpless."  Captain  Johnson 
promised  to  comply,  and  together  we  went  over  to  the 
convent  where  Rosario  was  confined.  The  old  ex- 
President  was  then  told  that  he  might  return  to  his 
home,  "  but,"  the  captain  insisted  on  explaining,  "  you 
have  not  me  to  thank.  I  only  liberate  you  at  the 
recommendation  of  Sefior  Romana,  the  man  whom  I 

206 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

understand  you  once  did  a  great  wrong.  May  you 
learn  a  lesson  in  true  nobility  of  heart  from  him !  " 

Begging  the  reader's  pardon  for  thus  leaping  half  a 
year  ahead  of  my  narrative,  we  shall  once  more  return 
to  the  time  of  our  first  acquaintance  with  this  noble 
gentleman. 

The  colonel  would  not  consent  to  the  resumption  of 
our  march  next  day,  and  insisted  upon  resting  our 
fatigued  limbs  until  the  morning  of  the  28th.  I  was 
thus  enabled  to  enter  into  long  conversations  with  sev- 
eral of  the  friars,  and,  having  heard  so  much  said 
against  them,  determined  to  Hsten  to  what  they  might 
have  to  say  in  their  own  defence.  He  to  whom  I  spoke 
was  a  Dominican,  and,  nothing  loath,  he  came  to  the 
point  at  once.  "  The  people  here  do  not  like  us,"  he 
admitted,  "  but,  while  willing  to  enjoy  the  benefits  the 
Church  gives  them,  they  refuse  to  pay  for  them  in  re- 
turn. We  have  not  given  them  the  more  advanced 
forms  of  education  because  they  are  not  yet  fit  for  it. 
Give  a  child  a  knife  to  play  with  and  he  cuts  himself. 
Yet  a  grown  person  may  use  the  same  knife  as  a  valu- 
able tool.  No  sooner  do  we  give  a  Filipino  a  good  edu- 
cation, when  he  turns  upon  us  and  uses  the  knowledge 
derived  from  us  to  do  us  harm." 

"  But,"  I  inquired,  "  cannot  the  Filipino  be  made  fit 
to  receive  the  higher  forms  of  education?  " 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  they  are  a  stupid  race.  It  will 
require  centuries  so  to  educate  them.  They  lack  in- 
telligence, and,  unless  ruled  by  an  iron  hand,  will  never 
learn.  Pity  is  lost  upon  the  average  native;  they  un- 
derstand only  fear,  and  only  by  inspiring  them  with 
dread  of  the  white  race  can  they  be  governed." 

This  friar,  furthermore,  informed  me  that  his  order, 
207 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

at  least,  had  had  enough  of  the  Filipinos,  and  would 
not  remain  under  any  circumstances:  "Probably  we 
shall  go  to  Bolivia  or  to  some  other  of  the  South  or 
Central  American  republics." 

On  the  morning  of  May  28th,  accompanied  by 
the  friars,  we  marched  to  Bangar,  five  kilometres  dis- 
tant. We  remained  here  until  the  afternoon,  but  the 
friars  went  on,  striking  up  into  the  mountains  at  this 
point  through  the  pass  of  Tagudin  up  to  the  Igorrote 
country  in  the  province  of  Lepanto.  Here  they  were 
surrounded  only  by  the  "  unbelievers,"  and  it  is  my 
conviction  that  Aguinaldo  had  a  purpose  in  this,  for 
here  they  were  safer  than  down  in  the  Christian  prov- 
inces. It  was  not  the  President's  wish  to  have  them 
murdered  by  enraged  mobs,  so,  as  soon  as  practicable, 
he  had  them  removed  up  into  the  Igorrote  districts, 
where  they  ran  no  risks  from  the  garrison  of  dis- 
ciplined regulars. 

During  the  afternoon  we  left  Bangar  and  travelled 
a  distance  of  three  kilometres  over  a  delta  country, 
crossing  no  less  than  four  branches  of  one  river  that 
emptied  into  the  sea  close  by.  This  river  forms  the 
boundary  between  the  provinces  of  Union  and  Ilocos 
Sur.  Having  crossed  the  last  fork,  we  entered  the 
town  of  Tagudin,  where  three  companies  of  soldiers, 
armed  with  nothing  more  than  wooden  guns,  escorted 
us  into  the  plaza  to  the  presidency  with  much  cere- 
mony. The  treatment  we  here  received  still  upheld  the 
good  impression  we  had  of  the  Ilocanos.  Each  of  us, 
besides  our  ration,  received  a  present  of  twenty  cents, 
and  Lieutenant  Gillmore  received  five  pesos.  In  doing 
this  the  President  had  an  object,  for  he  requested  Gill- 
more  to  write  him  a  letter  of  recommendation,  ad- 

208 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

dressed  to  American  officers  in  general.  The  Presi- 
dent was  far-sighted  and  invested  the  five  pesos  to 
good  purpose,  although  I  admit  he  deserved  it  as  far 
as  we  were  concerned. 

A  Chinese  merchant  of  the  town  sent  us  a  goat  by 
a  Spaniard,  asking  also  for  a  similar  letter  of  recom- 
mendation, and,  as  the  lieutenant  refused  to  comply 
with  the  Chino's  wishes,  Honeyman  and  myself  paid 
him  a  visit  in  his  "  tienda  "  across  the  plaza,  and  wrote 
the  required  document. 

During  the  following  few  days  we  passed  through 
the  small  and  uninteresting  towns  of  Sevilla,  Santa 
Cruz,  and  Santa  Lucia,  arriving  in  the  rather  more 
important  town  of  Candon  on  the  morning  of  May 
31st.  The  old  President,  Pedro  Legaspi,  who  to  this 
day  retains  that  position,  treated  us  in  a  manner  only 
equalled  by  the  hospitality  of  Baltazar  and  Santa  Ro- 
mana. 

A  banquet  was  here  given  in  our  honor,  where  on  a 
snowy  table-cloth  a  dinner  was  spread  equal  to  any 
to  be  had  in  the  best  Manila  hotels.  Afterward  came 
black  cofifee  and  cigars,  served  out  on  the  balcony 
while  we  leaned  back  in  cane  reclining  chairs,  our  bare 
feet  raised  to  a  level  with  our  heads  on  the  balcony 
railing,  and  while  we  puflPed  away  at  our  cheroots  the 
municipal  brass  band  serenaded  us  below  in  the  plaza. 
In  spite  of  our  rags  being  infested  with  vermin,  we 
exclaimed  to  each  other,  "  Who  wouldn't  be  a  pris- 
oner? "  That  treat  was  repeated  three  times,  in  the 
evening,  the  following  noon,  and  night.  Chocolate 
was  served  after  the  siestas. 

We  now  learned  that  our  final  destination  was  to 
be  Vigan,  the  capital  of  the  province,  and,  as  we  were 

209 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

told,  the  second  city  in  size  in  the  island  of  Luzon, 
next  to  Manila.  On  the  morning  of  June  2d  we  were 
once  more  on  the  road.  The  rest  of  our  journey  was 
uneventful.  We  were  treated  more  like  guests  than 
prisoners  in  all  the  towns  we  passed  through,  enjoy- 
ing the  hospitality  of  Santiago,  San  Esteban,  Santa 
Maria,  and  Narbacan,  until  the  evening  of  June  4th,  a 
month  and  a  day  since  leaving  San  Isidro,  found  us  in 
the  town  of  Santa,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Abra. 
On  the  other  side  was  situated  Vigan,  so  we  knew 
that  the  morrow  would  end  our  travels,  for  some  time 
at  least. 

The  President  of  Santa  was  courteous  to  Gillmore, 
but  the  rest  of  us  were  lodged  in  a  filthy  stable,  then 
used  as  a  depository  for  all  sorts  of  refuse.  Instead  of 
giving  us  our  ration  money,  he  compelled  us  to  pay 
twenty  cents  for  a  meal.  Evidently  he  had  imbibed 
the  Spanish  idea  that  an  officer  should  be  treated  as 
a  gentleman  and  the  common  soldiers  as  mere  animals. 
I  took  particular  pains  to  remember  him,  and  long 
afterward  we  met  again.  I  believe  that  I  was  at  least 
part  of  the  cause  of  his  downfall. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  we  were  ferried  over 
the  Abra  River  on  bamboo  rafts.  The  river  here 
comes  down  from  the  mountains  through  a  large  gap 
or  pass  known  as  "  La  Bocana."  Owing  to  heavy 
rains  it  had  swollen  into  a  roaring  torrent,  but  the 
dexterity  those  raftsmen  displayed  in  ferrying  us 
across  was  something  really  admirable. 

Half  an  hour's  march  brought  us  into  the  suburbs 
of  a  large  town.  This  was  Vigan.  Conducting  us 
through  what  seemed  a  labyrinth  of  narrow  streets, 
accompanied  by  a  dense  throng  of  the  inhabitants,  we 

210 


The  People  of  Ilocos 

at  length  reached  the  plaza  and  were  taken  into  a 
handsome  large  building  used  as  the  presidency. 
Large  buildings  lined  the  plaza  on  all  sides,  which  at 
one  time  must  have  been  a  beautiful  park,  with  two 
band-stands  in  the  centre  and  a  drive  around  them. 

At  length  a  stalwart  Ilocano,  the  provincial  Presi- 
dent, made  his  appearance,  and,  having  counted  us, 
turned  us  over  in  charge  of  a  squad  of  soldiers.  Once 
more  we  were  in  the  hands  of  the  military.  A  short 
walk  down  a  narrow  street  found  us  before  a  long 
rambling  brick  building,  almost  the  counterpart  of  the 
San  Isidro  prison.  Our  guards  conducted  us  through 
the  gloomy  entrance  into  a  courtyard.  The  heavy 
iron  gate  clanged  after  us,  and  we  knew  our  journey 
was  over!    "  Once  more  behind  the  bars." 


211 


CHAPTER  XVI 

VIGAN 

The  Vigan  prison — The  alcaide—"  An  Advance  Guard  of  Fam- 
ine " — Seiior  Pedro  Rivera — General  Tiiio's  warning — In- 
comunicados — American  searchlights  —  Sickness  —  Colonel 
Bias  Villamor — A  mysterious  reply. 

THE  prison  of  Vigan  was  laid  out  similar  to 
that  of  San  Isidro,  but  much  larger,  being 
divided  into  two  sections,  with  two  separate 
courtyards.  One  wing  was  used  as  barracks  by  part 
of  the  local  garrison,  the  other,  in  which  we  now  found 
ourselves,  was  the  military  prison  and  municipal  jail 
together.  In  the  centre  over  the  entrance  was  built 
a  large  square  tower,  in  the  upper  story  of  which  Gill- 
more  was  now  quartered  with  the  alcaide  and  his  fam- 
ily. We  others  were  confined  in  what  had  apparently 
at  one  time  been  the  prison  chapel,  for  at  one  end  was 
built  an  altar,  on  which  sat  a  much  discolored  wooden 
saint  staring  fixedly  up  at  the  rafters.  Again  we  had 
been  fortunate  with  regard  to  room,  for  our  cell,  facing 
the  street,  was  at  least  fifty  feet  long  by  twenty  wide. 
Six  large  but  heavily  iron-barred  windows  pierced  the 
eastern  wall  of  our  quarters,  allowing  the  sun  to  enter 
freely  every  morning.  But  the  view  from  these  win- 
dows was  depressing,  for  nothing  more  than  a  high 
stone  wall  came  into  sight  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  and  to  look  either  up  or  down  the  thoroughfare 
was  impossible,  owing  to  the  distance  of  the  bars  from 
the  outside  sill. 

212 


Vigan 

The  alcaide  was  inclined  to  be  kind  to  us,  for  his 
mental  vision  saw  into  the  future,  and  he  was  wise. 
As  I  write  this  he  is  still  alcaide  of  the  Vigan  prison 
for  the  American  Government. 

At  first  Lieutenant  Gillmore  had  been  confined  with 
the  rest  of  us,  but  so  strenuously  had  he  insisted  upon 
being  separate,  that  the  alcaide  had  obtained  permis- 
sion from  the  proper  authority  to  take  him  up  into 
his  own  rooms,  where  the  heutenant  was  given  an  en- 
tire apartment  to  himself.  Here  he  could  sit  on  a 
small  balcony  and  survey  the  surrounding  country 
from  the  Abra  Pass  or  La  Bocana  to  the  sea. 

Our  rations  were  now  cut  down  to  ten  cents,  or 
eight  motas;  even  the  lieutenant  was  not  supposed 
to  receive  more.  Ten  cents  without  rice  allowed  of 
no  luxuries,  but,  fortunately,  every  one  of  us  had  saved 
at  least  one  peso  from  the  road,  and  this  helped  us 
along  the  first  week.  The  alcaide  did  not  issue  the 
money  to  us,  but  retained  it,  and  twice  a  day  gave  us  a 
meal  of  rice  and  paw-paw  soup,  which  we  named 
banana-stalk  soup,  as  for  a  considerable  time  we  la- 
bored under  the  delusion  that  such  it  really  was.  That 
the  alcaide  retained  his  commission  we  never  doubted, 
but  he  was  uniformly  kind,  and  that  counted  also.  The 
"  teniente,"  as  he  called  Gillmore,  was  his  idol,  how- 
ever. Nothing  was  too  good  for  "  el  teniente."  He 
even  gave  him  breakfast  every  morning  at  his  own  ex- 
pense, and  often  supplied  him  with  cigars.  Meat,  bread, 
eggs,  chicken,  and  sausages  formed  his  chief  diet  every 
day,  and  as  this  alone  would  cost  over  twenty  cents,  the 
alcaide  must  certainly  have  paid  the  difference  from 
his  own  private  purse.    Sly  dog,  this  alcaide! 

It  can,  of  course,  easily  be  imagined  in  what  con- 
213 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

dition  our  clothes  were  after  a  month's  march.  With 
the  exception  of  the  lieutenant,  who  had  received 
numerous  presents  on  the  road,  we  were  all  either  bare- 
headed, barefooted,  or  tattered.  Most  of  us  deserved 
all  these  adjectives,  I  among  them,  besides  disabled  by 
a  running  ulcer  on  my  right  foot  that  refused  to  heal. 
Edwards  had  suffered  dreadfully  from  diarrhoea,  or 
rather  mild  dysentery,  but  was  now  a  trifle  improved, 
and  all  of  us  looked  gaunt  and  hollow-eyed.  This,  to- 
gether with  the  ragged  state  of  our  wardrobe,  gave  us 
the  appearance  of  an  advance  guard  of  famine,  or  we 
might  have  been  of  the  crew  of  that  ship  in  which 
the  "  Ancient  Mariner "  made  his  eventful  voyage. 
Again  the  Ilocanos  came  to  the  rescue. 

One  day  the  alcaide  entered  accompanied  by  a 
mestizo  of  the  upper  class,  whom  he  introduced  to  us 
as  Senior  Pedro  Rivera,  a  Vigan  merchant,  the  wealth- 
iest man  of  the  province,  as  we  later  learned.  Behind 
them  came  a  servant,  his  arms  full  of  clothes,  which  he 
deposited  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  ,  "  Help  your- 
selves," said  Seiior  Rivera,  and  we  did  so.  There  were 
coats,  shirts,  pants,  and  pajamas  of  all  sizes,  colors, 
styles,  and  cuts,  and  we  each  found  a  suit  of  clothes  at 
least.  Sefior  Rivera  had  gathered  them  from  his 
friends,  adding  a  good  many  himself.  We  thanked 
him  in  the  choicest  words  of  our  united  Spanish  vo- 
cabulary, but  our  true  feelings  of  gratitude  would  have 
been  difficult  of  expression  even  in  English.  Before 
leaving,  Sefior  Rivera  promised  to  return  on  the  next 
day  with  shoes,  hats,  underclothes,  and  more  cigars, 
though  each  of  us  had  already  received  a  package  of 
ten  of  the  latter  article.  But  we  never  saw  Sefior 
Rivera  again. 

214 


Vigan 

The  same  evening  after  this  visit,  General  Tino,  the 
commanding  officer  of  the  Insurgent  forces  in  the 
Ilocano  provinces,  who  had  his  head-quarters  in  Vigan, 
summoned  Seiior  Rivera  into  his  presence.  "  I  un- 
derstand that  you  have  given  the  American  prisoners 
clothes  and  cigars,  Don  Pedro,"  he  began,  as  we  after- 
ward learned.  "  If  your  philanthropical  inclinations 
are  so  strong,  bring  them  to  bear  on  our  own  soldiers, 
who  are  barefooted  and  ragged  also,  and  are  fighting 
for  our  independence.  Should  you  once  more  give  the 
Americans  so  much  as  a  mota,  you  run  a  great  risk 
of  joining  them  permanently." 

Thus  did  this  Tagalog  general,  a  lad  of  twenty-one, 
destroy  all  our  prospects  of  relief  from  the  friendly 
Ilocanos.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  he  cut  our  rations 
down  to  ten  cents  and  declared  us  "  incomunicados," 
that  is,  we  were  to  have  no  communication  with  the 
outside  world.  Guards  were  stationed  overlooking 
our  windows,  so  that  no  passing  Spaniard  or  native 
might  speak  to  us.  Tifio  was  evidently  taking  the  old 
Bastile  as  his  model. 

We  were,  nevertheless,  permitted  to  retain  the 
clothes  already  given  to  us,  and,  after  washing  our- 
selves at  the  well  in  the  yard,  each  donned  a  clean 
suit,  giving  us  a  more  respectable  appearance,  al- 
though the  cuts  were  not  made  for  our  figures. 

For  a  time  the  restrictions  were  scrupulously  en- 
forced, but,  encouraged  by  the  alcaide,  the  soldiers 
grew  lax  and  closed  their  eyes  to  an  occasional  chat 
with  passing  Spaniards  at  the  windows.  In  this  man- 
ner rumors  reached  us  of  more  conferences  and  pros- 
pects of  speedy  liberation,  but  our  confidence  in  Span- 
ish veracity  had  been  sadly  shaken  by  the  armistice 

215 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos  • 

stories  of  San  Isidro  and  the  phantom  army  landed  at 
Dagupan.  From  the  roof  of  the  tower,  we  were  told, 
vessels  could  often  be  seen  passing  so  close  to  the 
shore  that  the  American  flag  could  be  distinguished 
flying  from  the  mast-heads,  and  often  we  saw  the  sol- 
diers there  gazing  seaward.  Several  times  during  the 
nights  the  small  patch  of  sky,  to  be  seen  from  our  win- 
dows, was  illuminated  by  flashes  of  brilliant  light,  and 
we  could  distinctly  see  the  rays  of  the  searchlight 
sweeping  across  the  limited  field.  Meanwhile  only  one 
company  of  Insurgents  with  one  hundred  old-fash- 
ioned Remingtons  guarded  the  town  and  several  hun- 
dred prisoners. 

Although  I  still  believe  that  the  alcaide  was  not  in- 
spired by  pure  philanthropy,  he  nevertheless  made 
our  existence  as  endurable  as  lay  in  his  power.  His 
own  life  was  not  a  bed  of  roses  either;  he  had  a  large 
family  to  support,  and  his  pay  for  the  past  six  months, 
fifteen  pesos  monthly,  was  still  due  him.  But  he  was 
really  kind,  and  on  one  occasion  he  displayed  his  friend- 
ship in  a  practical  and  rather  forcible  manner. 

Brisolese,  one  of  the  sailor  boys,  was  seated  in  the 
window  one  day,  his  back  leaning  against  the  iron  bars. 
A  passing  "  taui "  saw  this,  and,  unable  to  resist  the 
temptation,  crept  up  under  the  window  unperceived, 
and  jabbed  the  point  of  his  bolo  into  the  boy's  back, 
who  immediately  gave  a  scream  of  pain.  The  alcaide 
happened  to  be  near,  and,  attracted  to  the  spot  by  the 
noise,  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance.  Snatching  the 
gun  out  of  the  hands  of  a  sleepy  sentry,  he  rushed  out, 
and  before  the  taui  had  time  to  escape  he  stretched 
his  own  length  on  the  ground.  The  guards  then 
dragged  the  fellow  into  our  cell,  where,  after  punching 

216 


Vigan 

him  considerably  about  the  head,  the  alcaide  had  him 
placed  in  the  stocks,  where  he  would  remain,  he  was 
told,  until  he  kissed  Brisolese's  hand  and  begged  his 
pardon.  This  he  really  accomplished  after  having  been 
in  the  stocks  for  half  an  hour.  He  was  then  allowed  to 
depart,  wiser,  perhaps,  but  sore  about  the  body,  for 
the  alcaide  was  no  weakling.  This  little  incident  had  a 
»    healthy  influence  on  other  would-be  "  valientes." 

So  poor  was  the  prison  diet,  served  out  to  us  but 
twice  a  day,  that  at  the  end  of  the  month  several  of 
us  became  ill,  looked  wasted  and  gaunt  and  hollow- 
eyed  as  many  of  the  Spaniards  had  appeared.  For  a 
time  no  attention  was  paid  to  our  miserable  condition, 
but,  fortunately,  Tifio's  adjutant.  Colonel  Bias  Vil- 
lamor,  came  around  on  a  tour  of  inspection  about  this 
time,  and  on  our  appeal  to  him  he  promised  to  send 
a  medico  around  from  the  hospital  to  inspect  us. 

This  was  about  July  2d.  The  day  before  Lieu- 
tenant Gillmore  had  written  a  letter  to  the  local  au- 
thorities, begging  to  have  his  rations,  as  an  officer, 
doubled  to  twenty  cents.  A  reply  came  in  due  time, 
and,  on  opening  it,  the  lieutenant  read  with  sur- 
prise the  following  in  English,  written  in  a  graceful 
Spencerian  hand,  such  as  no  Spaniard  or  Filipino  ever 
uses: 

Lieutenant  Gillmore. 

Sir:  Your  request  has  been  received,  filed,  and 
granted.  The  Provincial  Governor. 

And  we  had  spoken  to  the  provincial  governor  on 
the  day  of  our  arrival,  and  knew  that  his  English  was 
limited  to  the  one  word  "  Good-by."  Who,  then, 
could  have  written  it? 

217. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
AN   INSURGENT   HOSPITAL 

The  real  horrors  of  war — Capitan  Chrisolojo  and  his  wife — Lieu- 
tenant Abasilla — The  Insurgent  hospital  corps — Arnold's  visit 
— Provisions  for  the  American  prisoners — Fight  between 
Tagalogs  and  Ilocanos — Death  of  the  young  cazador — Beri- 
beri— Spanish  fiends. 

COLONEL  BLAS  VILLAMOR  proved  to  be 
a  man  of  his  word,  for,  on  the  afternoon  of 
July  3d,  the  day  after  his  visit,  two  Spanish 
hospital  stewards  or  "  practicantes,"  as  they  here  were 
called,  appeared,  sent  from  the  hospital  established  in 
one  of  the  Government  buildings  on  the  plaza,  the  roof 
of  which  could  be  viewed  from  our  windows.  As  I  was 
probably  in  a  worse  condition  than  any  of  the  rest,  hav- 
ing had  dysentery  for  over  a  week,  it  was  decided  to 
remove  me  to  the  hospital  building  for  treatment. 

Bidding  my  companions  farewell,  I  left  the  prison 
accompanied  by  the  two  practicantes  and  an  armed 
escort  of  four  men.  It  was  only  with  the  greatest  ex- 
ertion that  I  could  walk  at  all,  yet  those  four  soldiers 
watched  me  with  a  vigilance  that  would  have  led  one 
to  believe  there  was  some  danger  of  my  making  a 
desperate  break  for  the  American  lines,  two  hundred 
miles  distant,  or  that  I  might  suddenly  throw  off  my 
shirt,  develop  a  pair  of  wings,  and  with  a  grand  flap 
soar  up  into  the  blue  sky. 

218 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

To  the  plaza  was  but  a  few  steps,  and  soon  we  found 
ourselves  before  the  "  Hospital  Militar  de  Vigan,"  a 
Red  Cross  flag  fluttering  above  on  a  bamboo  stafif. 
Having  formerly  been  the  Spanish  Governor's  resi- 
dence, the  building  was  not  a  small  one.  About  the 
entrance  stood  groups  of  Spaniards,  whose  appear- 
ance was  strongly  suggestive  of  the  nature  of  the 
establishment. 

Passing  a  sentry  at  the  doorway,  we  next  ascended 
a  broad  staircase  to  the  floor  above,  where  the  two 
Spaniards  conducted  me  into  a  large  apartment  so 
darkened  that  it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  see  any 
object  at  all.  They  seated  me  on  the  edge  of  an  iron 
bedstead,  where  I  remained  for  some  time  trying  to 
pierce  the  gloom,  but,  as  my  eyes  gradually  grew  ac- 
customed to  it,  the  objects  about  me  became  gradually 
more  visible.  Around  against  the  walls  stood  some 
two  dozen  beds  similar  to  mine,  all  occupied  by  reclin- 
ing forms.  A  silence  as  oppressive  as  the  gloom  per- 
vaded the  entire  establishment,  broken  only  by  an  oc- 
casional sigh  or  a  stifled  groan. 

Almost  exhausted  by  the  walk,  I  threw  myself  on  the 
cot  against  a  pillow.  There  was  a  movement  on  the 
bed  next  to  mine,  and  its  occupant  rose  slowly  into  a 
sitting  posture.  A  faint  light  from  the  open  door  hap- 
pened to  fall  full  upon  him — my  God,  what  a  sight! 
A  feeling  of  intense  horror  sank  into  my  very  soul  at 
what  I  saw.  A  Spaniard  it  evidently  was,  but  never 
had  I  thought  it  possible  for  a  human  being  to  be  in 
such  physical  condition  and  still  live.  Two  round, 
black  hollows,  wherein  the  eyes  were  no  longer  visible, 
stared  at  me ;  the  lips  had  shrunk  back,  displaying  pro- 
truding teeth;   the  head  had  sagged  weakly  on  one 

219 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

shoulder,  being  connected  to  the  body  by  a  stem  not 
thicker  than  a  man's  wrist.  The  arm  at  the  shoulder 
and  the  wrist  was  of  an  equal  thickness,  the  elbow 
giving  the  arm  the  appearance  of  a  rope  knotted  in 
the  middle!  I  closed  my  eyes,  trying  to  keep  out  this 
awful  apparition  of  tortured  man,  but  it  seemed  to 
burn  to  my  very  eyelids.  How  I  wished  myself  away, 
yes,  even  back  in  the  gloomy  prison. 

It  was  not  long  before  my  bed  was  surrounded  by 
a  number  of  officers  and  attendants,  all  of  whom  wore 
on  their  sleeves  the  Red  Cross  brazzards  of  the  Insur- 
gent hospital  corps.  One  of  them,  a  fine-looking 
mestizo,  who  appeared  to  be  the  surgeon  in  charge, 
felt  my  forehead  and  pulse,  but  said  nothing  more  than 
that  I  must  keep  quiet,  though  I  was  not  conscious  of 
creating  any  disturbance.  Shortly  after  an  attendant 
administered  a  dose  of  brown  powders  to  me,  and  al- 
most immediately  I  dozed  away. 

My  first  night  in  the  Vigan  Hospital  was  an  ordeal 
tkat  has  convinced  me  thoroughly  that  the  hair  on  a 
man's  head  does  not  turn  gray  in  one  night :  if  that  was 
true,  mine  would  certainly  have  done  so.  The  powders 
had  thrown  me  into  a  lethargy,  during  which,  while 
unable  to  move  a  muscle,  I  was  still  half  conscious  of 
my  surroundings.  Suffering  intense  physical  pain,  I 
was  also  afflicted  with  terrible  visions  that  arose  before 
the  eyes  of  my  feverish  imagination,  but  which  I  could 
not  separate  from  reality.  I  lay  on  my  side,  my  eyes 
glued  on  that  Thing  on  the  other  cot.  It  seemed  to 
rise  and  chatter  its  horrible  teeth  in  my  face  at  times, 
but,  try  as  I  would,  it  was  impossible  to  turn  my  head 
away  or  utter  a  sound.  By  a  dim  light  I  saw  the  nurses 
standing  about  the  bed,  while  from  time  to  time  wild 

220 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

screams  would  echo  a  thousand  times  in  distant  rooms. 
At  length,  in  a  more  lucid  interval,  I  distinctly  saw  that 
Thing  arise,  throw  its  arms  toward  the  ceiling,  and 
with  a  loud  gurgle  fall  back  motionless.  I  closed  my 
eyes,  and,  when  I  opened  them  again,  a  white  cloth 
covered  that  wasted  form  on  the  other  cot  from  head 
to  foot. 

For  several  consecutive  days  I  lay  either  entirely 
unconscious  or  staring  in  a  listless  stupor  at  the  painted 
figures  on  the  ceiling,  uninterested  in  my  surround- 
ings. Sometimes  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  woman's 
face  bent  over  me,  but  my  senses  were  too  vague  and 
confused  to  feel  surprised.  Had  winged  angels  floated 
by  me,  I  should  have  accepted  that  as  the  most  nat- 
ural feature  in  the  world. 

In  less  than  a  week,  however,  my  condition  began 
to  improve,  and  once  more  my  mind  became  clear  and 
normal.  The  doctor  explained  that  he  had  dosed  me 
with  opium,  which  partly  accounted  for  my  previous 
state.  Once  more  I  was  able  to  take  an  interest  in 
what  took  place  around  me,  but,  strange  as  it  seems 
to  me  now,  the  horror  and  indescribable  fear  first  ex- 
perienced had  altogether  left. 

The  particular  ward  of  which  I  was  now  one  of  the 
inmates,  was  a  spacious  apartment  well  suited  for  the 
purpose  for  which  it  served.  Four  doors  opened  out 
on  an  outside  balcony,  where  the  patients  might  sit 
and  breathe  the  fresh  air  coming  in  on  the  ocean  breeze. 

With  the  exception  of  three  or  four  native  soldiers 
suffering  from  slight  wounds,  the  rest  of  the  patients 
in  this  ward  were  all  Spanish  prisoners,  the  majority 
of  them  in  the  last  stages  of  disease.  These  were  the 
grave  cases,  I  was  told,  waiting  their  turn  for  the  al- 

221 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

most  daily  trips  to  the  "  campo  santo,"  the  gates  of 
which  were  visible  from  the  balcony. 

There  was  about  a  score  of  them,  some  forming 
painful  illustrations  of  the  tenacity  with  which  the  soul 
sometimes  clings  to  its  shattered,  rapidly  decaying 
frame.  Some  of  these  patients,  I  am  certain,  did  not 
weigh  fifty  pounds — living  skeletons  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word.  Downstairs  were  seventy  more,  called 
convalescents,  but  that  word  was  misapplied,  for  they 
all  were  candidates  for  the  vacant  cots  which  the  dead 
left  behind  in  the  room  above.  These  poor  fellows 
slept  on  the  floor.  In  another  room  next  to  ours,  on 
the  same  floor,  were  quartered  a  dozen  Spanish  offi- 
cers; they  all  seemed  in  pretty  fair  health,  spending 
their  time  playing  monte  and  walking  up  and  down  a 
gallery  in  the  rear  part  of  the  building.  From  here, 
the  upper  story  of  the  prison  tower  where  Gillmore 
was  quartered  was  plainly  visible,  and  often  when  I 
came  out  there  we  could  see  each  other  and  wave  our 
hands. 

The  surgeon  in  charge,  Capitari  Victorino  Chris- 
olojo,  came  to  visit  me  daily,  apparently  anxious  that 
I  should  recover.  His  appearance  was  that  of  a  real 
gentleman;  at  first  glance  I  rather  "took"  to  him, 
nor  never  afterward  had  reason  to  change  my  opinion 
of  him  during  our  long  subsequent  acquaintance. 

But  his  wife  commanded  my  most  profound  respect 
and  admiration.  She,  too,  was  a  mestiza,  showing  but 
faint  traces  of  the  native  blood  in  her  appearance. 
With  true  womanly  sympathy  and  tenderness  she  did 
all  that  lay  in  her  power  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of 
the  sick  under  her  husband's  care,  though  her  powers 
were  limited,  the  Government  allowing  the  hospital  no 

222 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

more  than  ten  cents  daily  for  each  patient — not  a  great 
deal  for  dying  wretches. 

Chrisolojo  also  had  an  old  mother  who  occasionally 
came  to  visit  us,  and  together  these  two  ladies  made 
the  lot  of  the  poor  sufferers  the  least  trifle  less  bitter. 

Next  to  the  doctor  in  charge  came  Lieutenant 
Abasilla,  ranking  as  second  lieutenant.  He  was  a  lit- 
tle, fat,  good-natured,  full-blood  Ilocano,  a  former 
practicante  in  the  Spanish  hospitals,  now  a  full-fledged 
medico.  The  first  acquaintance  I  had  with  him  was 
when  one  day  he  came  to  my  bedside  and,  with  a  broad 
smile  on  his  face,  seated  himself  comfortably  in  a  chair. 
Feeling  my  pulse,  he  smiled  still  more  broadly,  and, 
with  a  repeated  "  Bien,  bien! "  handed  me  a  cigar  at 
the  same  time.  "  How  are  you  now?  "  he  inquired. 
"  Better,"  I  answered.  Again  came  a  "bien,  bien!" 
and  with  that  another  cigar,  he  having  apparently  for- 
gotten that  he  had  already  given  me  one.  For  some 
time  he  sat  there,  evidently  well  pleased  with  the  world 
in  general  and  my  case  in  particular.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  the  Ilocanos?  "  he  asked  me  again.  "  Good 
people,"  I  replied  with  sincerity.  This  brought  out 
three  more  "  biens  "  from  the  contented  little  doctor, 
with  a  third  cigar.  Every  time  he  pronounced  things 
"  bien  "  I  received  a  cigar,  so  that  when  at  length  he 
departed  I  had  just  half  a  dozen  fine  Cagayan  cheroots 
under  my  pillow.  But,  unfortunately,  a  few  days  later 
this  agreeable  little  individual  left  Vigan  for  Bangued, 
the  capital  of  the  province  of  Abra,  twenty  miles  up 
the  river  that  came  down  through  "  La  Bocana," 
where  he  established  a  branch  hospital  for  the  soldiers 
and  prisoners  there  stationed. 

Next  in  rank  came  the  two  practicantes,  Perez  and 
223 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Manuel,  the  two  Spaniards  who  had  brought  me  over 
from  the  prison.  Although  prisoners  themselves,  their 
experience  in  the  Spanish  hospitals  in  this  capacity 
made  their  services  valuable  here,  and  for  a  couple  of 
pesos  monthly  salary  they  undertook  the  duties  and 
held  the  rank  of  non-commissioned  officers  in  the  In- 
surgent hospital  corps,  at  the  same  time  being  prison- 
ers of  war.  They  were  constantly  busy,  administering 
medicines,  bandaging  sores  and  wounds,  and  mixing 
compounds  in  the  doctor's  laboratory. 

The  nurses  were  two  native  boys,  Perico  and  Leon, 
both  relatives  of  the  doctor.  Their  ambition  was  to 
learn  and  !n  time  become  students  in  the  Medical  Col- 
lege of  Manila,  where  Chrisolojo  had  graduated,  but, 
as  that  was  now  impossible,  they  were  taking  prac- 
tical lessons  in  the  capacity  of  nurses  or  "  sanitarios." 

Besides  these  there  were  half  a  dozen  well  Spaniards, 
called  "  infermeros,"  clumsy  fellows  whose  greatest 
ambition  was  to  shirk  their  duties,  consisting  in  aiding 
the  helpless  to  rise  from  their  cots,  bring  water,  wash 
the  sick  and  their  clothes,  and  in  other  ways  assist  the 
practicantes.  They  were  in  their  turn  also  assisted  by 
a  squad  of  soldiers  stationed  downstairs,  called  "  cam- 
areros  "  (literally  litter-bearers),  who  mounted  guard, 
carried  out  the  dead,  and  swept  up  the  floors,  keeping 
the  premises  clean  in  general. 

This  formed  the  whole  hospital  corps  of  Vigan,  and 
so  far  all  was  well.  The  doctor  did  all  he  reasonably 
could  be  expected  to  do,  but  without  the  proper  means 
was  practically  helpless.  His  laboratory  contained  but 
few  medicines,  and,  what  was  there,  had  probably 
formed  part  of  Magellan's  medicine-chest.  Some  pow- 
ders,  iodoform  that  had  lost  its  penetrating  smell, 

224 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

emetics,  salves,  and  a  very  few  other  chemicals  com- 
pleted the  outfit.  There  were  not  even  the  necessary 
instruments  for  amputating  a  limb,  had  such  an  opera- 
tion been  found  necessary,  and  in  many  cases  paper 
was  substituted  for  bandages,  with  cotton  batting  un- 
derneath, this  latter  being  present  in  abundance  as  a 
home  product.  Linen  was  used  only  in  the  most  seri- 
'ous  cases.  As  Chrisolojo  himself  often  remarked,  he 
needed  everything  and  had  nothing. 

I  was  at  first  a  great  curiosity  in  the  hospital,  and, 
as  visitors  were  allowed  to  enter  every  afternoon  be- 
tween the  hours  of  three  and  six,  many  of  the  Vigan 
citizens  availed  themselves  of  this  privilege  in  order  to 
see  upon  what  plan  an  American  was  really  built. 
They  were,  however,  never  offensive,  and  even  gave 
me  presents  of  cigars  and  cigarettes,  until  I  soon  had 
enough  to  distribute  among  my  Spanish  companions, 
less  fortunate  than  I  in  not  being  rarities.  But  one 
day  I  received  a  visit  something  out  of  the  ordinary. 

It  was  a  week  after  my  arrival  that  Perico  one  after- 
noon came  in,  and  shaking  my  arm — I  was  sleeping  at 
the  time — said  that  a  "  sefior  "  was  desirous  of  seeing 
me.  Sounds  of  footsteps  caused  me  to  turn  my  head, 
and  there  at  my  bedside  stood  David  Arnold,  whom 
none  of  us  had  ever  seen  since  leaving  San  Isidro.  For 
a  moment  we  stared  into  each  other's  eyes,  neither 
speaking  a  word.  At  length  he  extended  his  hand  to 
me,  saying:  "  Well,  I  thought  I  would  come  up  to  tell 
you  the  news." 

Since  leaving  the  prison  I  hadn't  heard  a  word  of 
English  spoken;  I  was  lonely,  sickness  had  weakened 
me  mentally  as  well  as  physically,  and  his  words  caused 
my  hand,  almost  before  I  knew  it,  to  go  out  and  meet 

225 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

his.  For  the  first  time  since  February  13th  we  now 
spoke  to  one  another.  I  had  resolved  never  again  to 
speak  to  Arnold  with  other  words  than  those  of  an 
enemy,  but  I  admit  that  I  broke  that  resolution  here. 
Perhaps  he  secretly  laughed  at  my  weakness,  but,  if  so, 
his  words  didn't  show  it,  and  almost  unconsciously  I 
found  myself  conversing  with  him  as  freely  as  if  noth- 
ing had  ever  happened  between  us.  Perico,  Leon,  and 
several  Spanish  ofificers  from  the  next  room  stood 
around  to  listen  to  the  strange  accents  of  the  English 
language,  but,  paying  no  heed  to  them,  Arnold  com- 
menced to  relate  his  experience  since  leaving  San 
Isidro. 

He  had  been  in  Vigan  already  over  a  week,  he  told 
me,  but  Tiiio  had  forbidden  him  to  visit  the  prison. 
It  was  he  that  had  written  the  mysterious  answer  to 
Lieutenant  Gillmore's  appHcation,  the  provincial  gov- 
ernor having  requested  him  to  do  so.  He  was  now 
residing  in  what  had  formerly  been  the  Bishop's  Palace, 
as  it  was  still  called  by  the  Spaniards.  This  was  situ- 
ated on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plaza  from  the  hos- 
pital, and  there  Tiiio  and  his  stafif  had  established  their 
head-quarters.  Arnold  was  now  acting  as  the  General's 
English  teacher,  as  he  had  done  for  the  Governor  of 
Nueva  Ecija. 

In  spite  of  the  efforts  of  his  former  patron  to  retain 
him  in  San  Isidro,  the  higher  oflficials  had  nevertheless 
insisted  upon  his  going  north,  evidently  not  deeming 
it  safe  to  have  him  so  close  to  the  front.  In  company 
with  our  old  friend  Captain  Espifia  he  had  come  to 
Vigan  by  easy  stages,  taking  just  two  months  to  cover 
the  same  distance  over  the  same  road  we  had  travelled 
in  half  that  time. 

226 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

While  in  San  Jose  he  saw  two  carretones  loaded 
with  tinned  goods,  flour,  potatoes,  bottled  lemonades, 
coffee,  sugar,  and  tobacco,  sent  through  the  lines  by 
the  Red  Cross  Society  for  the  fourteen  American  pris- 
oners. He  admitted  having  applied  for  and  received 
one-fifteenth  part  of  the  stores,  and  in  return  gave  his 
receipt.  The  probability  of  these  stores  ever  reaching 
Vigan  seemed  indeed  slim.  Arnold  likewise  told  me 
that  he  had  learned  from  authentic  sources  that  origi- 
nally there  had  been  thirty  cases,  but  he  saw  only  fif- 
teen. General  Luna's  secretary  had  also  confidentially 
informed  him  that  on  the  General's  table  had  appeared 
American  preserved  fruits,  tinned  meats,  devilled  ham, 
condensed  milk,  and  lemonades.  This  was  not  so  sur- 
prising as  the  fact  that  fifteen  cases  had  reached  San 
Jose,  and  this  again  as  a  miracle  was  eclipsed  when 
three  months  later  half  of  one  of  these  fifteen  cases 
really  reached  us,  weather-beaten  and  with  tins  much 
rusted  and  dented.    One-half  a  case  of  thirty! 

Besides  the  above,  Arnold  had  another  interesting 
incident  to  relate,  which  well  illustrates  the  mutual 
antipathy  existing  between  Tagalog  and  Ilocano. 
While  he  was  at  Caudon  this  affair  had  taken  place  in  a 
neighboring  barrio.  Six  Tagalog  soldiers  had  entered 
a  private  dwelling,  as  soldiers  of  all  nationalities  will  do, 
commencing  to  loot  and  insult  its  occupants.  A  male 
member  of  the  outraged  family  escaped,  and,  once  clear 
of  the  house,  raised  his  fingers  to  his  lips,  blowing  a 
shrill  whistle.  In  a  few  moments  a  dozen  stalwart  Ilo- 
canos  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  at- once  attacked  the 
Tagalogs  with  their  bolos.  The  result  was  three  dead 
and  three  wounded  soldiers,  the  latter  seeking  safety 
in  flight,  leaving  their  Remingtons  in  possession  of  the 

227 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Ilocanos.  This  afifair  had  caused  quite  a  stir  in  military 
circles,  and  several  of  the  participants  were  arrested 
and  given  long  terms  of  imprisonment. 

It  was  almost  sunset  when  Arnold  took  his  de- 
parture, promising  to  visit  me  every  afternoon.  After 
he  was  gone  I  discovered  a  package  of  fine  Cagayan 
cigars  beside  my  pillow,  but  I  gave  them  all  to  the 
Spaniards, 

Arnold  came  almost  daily  after  this,  until  one  day 
I  received  a  note  from  him  written  in  Spanish,  stating 
that  Tifio  had  forbidden  him  to  continue  his  visits,  and 
that  he  must  obey.  But  often  I  saw  him  gallop  by 
the  hospital  on  a  handsome  pony,  waving  his  hand  to 
me  as  he  passed. 

Soon  I  was  joined  by  another  companion  from  the 
prison.  Petersen,  one  of  the  Yorktown's  apprentice 
boys,  was  brought  over  suffering  from  dysentery.  He 
had  changed  so  much  since  I  saw  him  at  the  prison 
that  I  hardly  recognized  him.  For  a  long  time  I 
thought  the  boy  would  not  pull  through,  but  having 
been  a  prisoner  only  three  months  he  still  retained 
enough  of  his  original  vitality  to  pass  over  the  danger- 
line,  yet  hardly  again  will  he  stare  death  so  closely  in 
the  face  without  being  carried  ofif. 

With  the  Spaniards  it  was  different.  Many  of  them 
had  been  in  the  country  for  three  and  four  years,  cam- 
paigning in  the  rainy  season,  overworked,  underfed, 
and  poorly  clad,  consequently  they  were  less  able  to 
withstand  such  debilitating  diseases  as  dysentery,  fever, 
anaemia,  and  beri-beri.  Almost  every  day  they  suc- 
cumbed around  us  to  these  complaints,  enfeebled  by 
want  of  proper  nourishment  such  as  rice  and  "  vianda  " 
could  not  afford.    This  would  have  been  worth  more 

228 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

than  all  the  medicines  in  Chrisolojo's  laboratory,  but 
what  could  be  done  with  ten  cents! 

Meanwhile,  as  Arnold  and  the  Spaniards  told  me, 
Tiiio  sat  in  the  "  Club  de  Vigan,"  gambling  at  monte, 
winning  as  much  as  five  hundred  pesos  daily  for  a 
long  run. 

On  the  first  night  of  my  arrival  a  man  had  died  in 
terrible  agonies  on  the  bed  next  to  mine,  but  the 
Vacancy  was  the  next  day  filled  by  a  young  cazador 
from  below.  This  was  a  mere  boy  of  eighteen,  a  recruit 
who  had  arrived  in  the  Islands  but  shortly  before  the 
war.  His  appearance  and  manner  led  me  to  believe 
that  he  belonged  to  a  better  class  family,  and  this  made 
his  fate  all  the  sadder.  As  we  were  neighbors  he  and 
I  became  very  intimate,  and  would  sometimes  lie  for 
hours  chatting  with  one  another.  He  told  me  that  he 
had  been  drafted  twice  for  the  army,  and  each  time 
his  father  had  paid  the  price  of  a  substitute,  but  the 
third  time  his  family  could  no  longer  meet  the  demand, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  a  promising  position  as 
assistant  scenic  artist  in  a  Madrid  theatre,  to  serve  his 
king  in  the  colonies. 

At  first  his  illness  had  not  appeared  so  very  serious 
to  me,  as  he  was  able  to  walk  about  and  even  seemed 
in  good  spirits,  but  long  before  Chrisolojo  told  me  that 
he  would  never  see  Spain  again,  I  had  noticed  how 
rapidly  he  was  sinking  from  day  to  day.  What  the  sick- 
ness was,  the  doctor  did  not  tell  me,  but  Perez  said 
significantly  "  hambre,"  and  somehow  I  could  not  but . 
believe  him.  The  boy  grew  weaker  and  thinner,  un- 
able to  eat  the  sickening  paste  placed  before  him  every 
day.  The  eternal  rice  gave  him  fits  of  dry  vomiting 
at  the  mere  sight  of  it.     "Take  it  away!     Take  it 

229 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

away !"  he  would  exclaim.  "  Morosqueta!  *  Howl 
hate  it! "  Raw  eggs  were  given  him,  but  one  dozen 
cost  two  days'  rations.  Milk  was  three  motas  a  pint, 
and  a  small  chicken  was  priced  at  one  peseta,  so  noth- 
ing remained  but  rice,  it  being  the  cheapest.  As  Perez 
said,  if  the  rations  had  been  doubled,  deaths  would 
probably  have  decreased  fifty  per  cent.  i  ) 

At  length  my  neighbor  could  no  longer  rise  from 
his  cot  without  assistance.  Often  he  called  on  me  and 
I  would  help  him,  for  he  might  have  lain  there  all 
day  before  the  infermeros  would  have  come  to  his  as- 
sistance. Often  after  this  I  heard  him  quietly  crying 
to  himself  at  nights,  stifling  his  sobs  in  the  pillow — 
he  now  realized  the  truth.  I  did  not  know  how  near 
the  end  was,  until  one  evening  a  black-robed  priest 
entered,  followed  by  a  servant,  the  latter  carrying  a 
large  wooden  box  which  he  deposited  on  the  floor. 

The  padre  seated  himself  at  the  boy's  bedside,  bend- 
ing over  and  speaking  to  him  in  a  low  voice.  Mean- 
while, the  servant  opened  the  box.  When  I  saw  its 
contents  my  heart  sank  within  me,  for  the  boy  and  I 
were  friends. 

Having  donned  a  white  silk  gown,  the  priest  began 
the  ceremony,  reading  an  incomprehensible  Latin 
prayer  from  a  book,  and  holding  a  small  ivory  crucifix 
to  the  lips  of  the  dying  youth.  Before  he  could  fin- 
ish, however,  the  latter  gave  a  loud  shriek  of  agony, 
and  with  a  convulsive  jerk  turned  over  on  his  side, 
burying  his  face  in  the  bed-clothes,  sobbing  and  calling 

*The  name  by  which  rice  in  a  cooked  state  is  universally  known 
throughout  the  Philippines,  derived  from  the  word  "  moro,"  or  "moros," 
the  Mohammedan  natives,  who  were  the  only  ones  that  used  rice  before 
the  advent  of  the  friars. 

230 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

on  his  mother.  The  priest  laid  aside  the  book  and 
crucifix  with  a  trembling  hand;  the  tears  were  cours- 
ing down  his  dusky  cheeks,  and  his  chest  heaved  spas- 
modically. Then  he  turned  and  bent  over  the  dying 
cazador,  hiding  his  face  from  my  view.  Whether  he 
prayed  or  spoke  to  the  boy  I  could  not  tell,  but,  gradu- 
ally, the  sobbing  ceased,  and  the  two  figures  might 
have  been  of  stone,  so  still  were  they.  Presently  the 
priest  rose  again,  took  off  his  white  gown,  drew  the 
cowl  of  his  black  cloak  over  his  head,  and  quietly  left 
the  room,  his  hands  clasped  before  him.  But,  before 
leaving,  he  had  covered  the  young  face  with  a  white 
handkerchief. 

Many  times  since  have  I  fancied  this  scene  again 
before  my  eyes,  only  to  awake  with  terror  and  find  it 
a  dream.  It  was  not  the  rarity  of  the  case  that  caused 
such  an  impression  on  my  mind,  for  similar  scenes  could 
be  witnessed  every  day,  but — ^the  boy  and  I  had  been 
friends. 

Death  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  hospital  of  Vigan 
in  those  days,  nor  did  he  confine  himself  to  the  set 
hours  of  the  establishment,  and  no  sentry's  bayonet 
would  keep  him  out.  Fourteen  times  did  he  swoop 
down  to  bear  off  a  victim  during  my  stay  of  two 
months.  Some  were  quietly  taken  off  during  the  night, 
their  bodies  found  cold  and  rigid  in  the  morning; 
others  resisted  the  bony  grasp  with  shrieks  and  screams 
before  finally  giving  in.  There  were  others  who  simply 
wasted  away  until  the  soul  no  longer  found  room  in 
its  clay  dwelling,  and  quietly  slipped  out.  The  worst 
sufferers  of  all  were  the  victims  of  beri-beri. 

This  disease  is  peculiar  to  tropical  Asia,  and  un- 
known in  America.    Out  of  several  cases  I  witnessed 

231 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

here  I  will  describe  one.  A  cazador,  whom  I  had  no- 
ticed upon  arrival  ss  being  apparently  in  tolerably 
good  physical  condition,  lay  on  a  cot  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room  from  me.  Gradually  he  grew  thin- 
ner until  he  seemed  to  be  on  the  verge,  but  soon  be- 
gan to  pick  up  again,  and  was  daily  gaining  in  flesh, 
though  not  in  strength.  Each  day  he  grew  stouter, 
and  the  hollow  cheeks  filled  out  once  more,  still  retain- 
ing a  ghastly  yellow  complexion,  however.  I  re- 
marked to  Perez  one  day:  "That  man  seems  to  be 
doing  remarkably  well."  The  practicante  shook  his 
head,  saying:  "  No,  no,  I  have  seen  such  before. 
The  best  physicians  in  the  world  could  not  save  him 
now — he  has  beri-beri."  For  a  few  days  more  this 
unnatural  swelling  increased,  and  the  patient  seemed 
in  great  pain.  His  legs  now  puffed  up  to  the  thick- 
ness of  his  thighs,  and  he  lay  on  his  cot  paralyzed 
from  the  hips  down.  Then  he  was  carried  out  on  the 
balcony  and  laid  on  a  mat. 

The  following  day,  hearing  him  cry  out  as  if  in  great 
bodily  pain,  I  stepped  out  to  see  what  might  be  the 
cause,  and  if  the  sufiferer  possibly  could  be  relieved  in 
some  way.  The  sight  that  met  my  eyes  sent  a  shud- 
der through  my  body,  notwithstanding  that  for  the 
last  three  weeks  I  had  been  compelled  to  witness  suf- 
fering daily.  The  man  was  naked,  and  over  his  bloated 
body  stood  Perez  and  Manuel,  the  two  practicantes, 
cutting  small  incisions  in  the  diseased  legs  and  arms, 
from  which  trickled  a  whitish,  sticky-looking  fluid, 
which  had  gathered  in  a  large  pool  as  it  dripped  on 
the  floor.  The  pupils  of  his  eyes  were  barely  visible, 
though  the  lids  were  wide  open,  and  from  the  whole 
emanated  a  sickening  stench.    An  hour  later,  on  going 

232 


An  Insurgent  Hospital 

out  again,  I  found  him  alone  in  a  pool  of  the  hor- 
rible liquid,  half  his  former  dimensions  gone,  but 
dead. 

But  what  horrified  me  most  was  the  neglect  with 
which  the  very  Spaniards  treated  their  own  dying 
countrymen.  Perico  and  Leon  were  but  mere  boys, 
and  were  on  duty  only  one  at  a  time,  still  I  liked  them 
_  better  than  the  Spanish  infermeros  for  the  kindness 
they  showed  the  sick.  At  night,  however,  when  these 
two  boys  and  Chrisolojo  were  asleep  in  a  distant  part 
of  the  house,  the  fiendishness  of  the  Spaniards  became 
most  apparent.  The  helpless  might  then  call  for 
water  or  assistance  to  go  out  on  the  balcony,  but  their 
cries  were  not  only  not  complied  with,  but  mocked. 

One  day,  in  answer  to  the  piteous  appeals  for  help 
from  one  of  the  poor  wretches,  I  arose  and  went  over 
to  his  bedside.  A  nurse,  lying  sleepily  in  a  corner  of 
the  room,  shouted  to  me:  "Don't  trouble  yourself 
about  that  fellow,  he  only  cries  out  to  spite  us."  Just 
then  the  doctor's  wife,  having  heard  the  noise,  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway,  and  the  fellow  leaped  to  his 
feet,  pretending  to  be  busily  engaged  with  his  duties 
in  general. 

The  worst  example  we  witnessed  one  night  long 
after  taps  had  sounded  in  the  barracks  across  the  way. 
Did  I  not  have  two  witnesses  to  testify  to  the  truth  of 
this  incident  I  would  hesitate  to  mention  it.  Petersen 
had  returned  to  prison,  but  Edwards  and  Bruce  were 
now  my  companions,  and  we  three  saw  this  act  com- 
mitted. 

A  patient  in  the  last  agonies  was  screaming  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  all  attempts  at  quieting  him  proving 
useless.    At  last,  with  an  oath  one  of  the  nurses  sprang 

233  .     ^ 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

to  his  feet,  and,  going  up  to  the  dying  man's  bedside, 
he  buried  his  fingers  in  his  neck,  thus  effectually  silenc- 
ing him.  There  were  no  more  screams,  for  the  poor 
wretch  suffered  no  longer;  but  a  murder  had  been 
committed. 


234 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

LIEUTENANT   CASTRO 

Bruce  and  Edwards  arrive — We  make  use  of  the  Navy  Signal 
Code — Filipino  Ladies'  Red  Cross  Society — Tiiio's  warning 
to  Villamor — American  vessels  on  the  horizon — Perez  plans 
an  escape — Lieutenant  Repol,  his  escape,  recapture,  and 
punishment — General  Tino's  victories — His  treatment  of  the 
Bishop  of  Vigan — Don  Francisco  saluting  the  citizens — 
Bombardment  of  San  Fernando — Tiiio  leaves  Vigan,  and  so 
do  we. 

AS  before  stated,  Petersen  had  recovered  and 
been  sent  back  to  prison,  but,  although  I  also 
was  cured  of  dysentery,  another  ailment  came 
to  prevent  my  return.  My  legs  from  the  hips  down  be- 
came swelled  to  almost  double  their  size  and  covered 
with  ugly  ulcers,  some  so  large  and  deep  as  to  be  able 
to  contain  a  hen's  egg.  These  ulcers  are  very  common 
even  among  our  own  soldiers  in  the  Philippines,  but 
mine  was  an  aggravated  case.  Chrisolojo  informed  me 
that  they  were  the  result  of  bare  feet,  improper  diet, 
want  of  physical  exercise,  and  hardships  in  general,  and 
that  he  had  seen  cases  where  these  eating  ulcers  had 
laid  bare  the  bone  of  leg  and  foot,  so  as  to  render  am- 
putation necessary.  This  latter  statement  the  doctor 
had  the  tact  and  consideration  not  to  tell  me  then,  but 
after  my  recovery.  Many  of  the  Spaniards  suffered 
from  them. 

Bruce  and  Edwards  were  now  my  companions,  the 
235 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

former,  as  Chrisolojo  one  day  told  me  aside,  in  the  first 
stages  of  consumption,  the  latter  suffering  from  gen- 
eral debility.  Poor  Bruce,  had  he  been  able  to  receive 
proper  treatment  then,  all  might  have  been  well,  but 
Chrisolojo  was  helpless,  as  he  asserted  himself. 

Time  passed  more  rapidly  now,  for,  besides  studying 
Spanish  several  hours  daily,  and  teaching  EngHsh  to 
Chrisolojo,  who  proved  an  apt  pupil,  I  now  commenced 
to  write  out  a  detailed  statement  of  my  experiences, 
on  the  backs  of  old  Spanish  documents  and  records 
which  lay  stacked  almost  to  the  ceiling  in  the  room 
once  the  Spanish  Governor's  ofiice,  now  the  doctor's 
laboratory.  My  diary  written  in  San  Isidro  was  lost, 
so  I  was  obliged  to  start  afresh. 

The  doctor  seemed  to  have  taken  a  liking  to  me, 
for  several  times  he  assured  me  that  so  long  as  he 
could  prevent  it  I  should  not  return  to  the  prison. 
After  all,  I  liked  it  better  here,  for,  not  only  did  I  have 
writing  paper  in  abundance,  and  access  to  the  doctor's 
books,  among  which  were  several  Spanish  and  Eng- 
lish grammars,  but  here  also  could  I  read  La  Indepen- 
dencia,  which  arrived  by  mail  twice  a  week.  The  In- 
surgents had  a  mail  system  sadly  inferior  to  ours.  The 
news  was,  of  course,  much  distorted,  but  we  were  at 
liberty  to  draw  our  own  deductions  from  what  we  read. 

We  also  kept  up  a  continual  correspondence  with 
our  companions  in  the  prison,  either  by  means  of  notes 
which  Perez  would  throw  in  through  the  bars  wrapped 
about  a  stone,  while  passing,  or  by  signals.  We  had 
all  learned  the  Navy  Signal  Code  while  over  in  the 
jail,  to  pass  away  the  time,  and  now  the  knowledge 
became  useful.  From  the  rear  veranda  of  the  hospital 
the  tower  of  the  prison  was  plainly  visible,  and  from 

236 


Lieutenant  Castro 

the  window  of  Gillmore's  room,  Vaudoit,  the  lieuten- 
ant's interpreter,  could  see  our  signals  with  white  rags 
on  the  end  of  sticks,  or  sometimes  with  the  arm  alone. 
Walton,  chief  quartermaster  of  the  Yorktown,  was  the 
master  hand  at  signalling,  however,  and  whenever  he 
was  allowed  in  the  Heutenant's  quarters,  could  send  us 
the  happenings  of  a  week  in  a  few  minutes.  At  length 
Gillmore,  not  considering  it  safe,  ordered  his  men  to 
desist,  so  we  only  communicated  by  means  of  notes. 

Seeing  that  the  lieutenant's  request  to  have  his  own 
rations  doubled  had  met  with  success,  his  men  re- 
quested him  again  to  try  in  their  behalf,  and  this  he 
did,  but  with  no  success.  At  length,  having  learned 
that  Arnold  was  in  town,  the  lieutenant  wrote  to  him, 
requesting  him  to  secretly  visit  Sefior  Rivera,  the  na- 
tive merchant  who  already  had  been  kind  to  us,  and 
negotiate  for  the  loan  of  a  certain  sum  of  money.  Ar- 
nold did  so,  with  the  result  that  Sefior  Rivera  sent  the 
lieutenant  fifteen  pesos.  Notwithstanding  the  secrecy 
with  which  this  transaction  had  been  carried  on,  Tino 
heard  of  it,  and,  as  will  appear  later,  Rivera  suffered 
severely.  But  how  did  this  reach  the  Tagalog  general's 
ears?    We  can  only  surmise. 

But  one  day  brought  the  boys  in  the  jail  a  visit 
from  our  old  friend  and  benefactor  of  Santa  Isabela, 
Captain  Espina,  who  had  been  sent  up  here  to  build 
trenches.  Through  his  influence  they  were  allowed 
several  hours'  daily  exercise  in  the  street  before  the 
prison  building,  well  guarded,  though.  Rations  re- 
mained the  same. 

But  to  return  to  the  hospital.  Not  only  were  we 
more  comfortable  here,  but  the  many  pleasant  ac- 
quaintances we  made  with  both  Spaniards  and  Fili- 

237 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

pinos  caused  our  imprisonment  to  be  less  irksome  than 
it  had  been  before.  Although  familiarity  does  not  al- 
ways breed  contempt,  the  scenes  of  suffering  daily 
witnessed  made  not  the  impression  now  they  had  done 
before. 

One  Sunday  Dr.  Cbrisolojo  was  notified  by  the 
Ladies'  Red  Cross  Society  of  Vigan  that  they  would 
inspect  the  hospital  that  same  afternoon.  The  rooms 
were  nicely  swept  and  everything  placed  in  the  best 
possible  order.  Shortly  after  the  siesta  they  came, 
about  twenty  young  mestiza  ladies.  A  couple  of  weeks 
later  we  read  an  account  of  this  visit  in  La  Indepen- 
dencia,  a  copy  of  which  I  have  before  me  now,  and, 
therefore,  I  will  give  a  Hteral  translation  of  the  article, 
which  was  entitled 

Deeds  of   Charity. 

•  •••••» 

"  There  are  deeds  done  which,  on  account  of  the 
good  example  they  set  the  public,  it  would  be  a  great 
pity  to  keep  in  obscurity,  so  that  men  knowing  of  these 
soft  touches  of  human  nature  may  not  become  sceptics. 

"  One  of  these  acts  took  place  in  the  hospital  of  this 
district,  of  which  I  was  a  witness,  revealing  the  noble 
sentiments  of  woman,  and  distinguishing  charity  as 
one  of  the  most  cultivated  virtues  in  our  country. 
Through  the  kindness  of  the  Director  of  the  Vigan 
Hospital  I  am  enabled  to  send  you  the  facts  of  this  in- 
cident, risking  the  displeasure  of  the  young  ladies  in 
question,  who,  owing  to  their  natural  modesty,  would 
undoubtedly  prefer  less  publicity. 

"  On  the  afternoon  of  Sunday,  the  i6th  inst.,  the 
ladies  of  the  most  prominent  families  of  this  commu- 

238 


Lieutenant  Castro 

nity,  as:  Sefioras  Ignacio  and  Bernardo  Villamor, 
Senora  de  Espina,  Sefiora  and  Senorita  de  Querol,  the 
Sefioritas  de  Singson,  Sefioritas  de  Donate,  Senora 
and  Senorita  de  Formosa,  and  Sefioritas  de  Avila,  paid 
the  hospital  a  visit. 

"  After  visiting  the  different  wards,  giving  words  of 
comfort  and  consolation  as  only  women  can  do,  they 
at  length  returned  to  the  reception  room,  where  this 
wreath  of  living  flowers,  as  we  may  well  call  them,  de- 
cided to  leave  behind  them  something  more  substantial 
than  the  mere  pleasant  recollection  of  their  visit.  At 
the  proposal  of  Sefiora  de  Villamor,  a  collection  was 
taken  up,  large  enough  to  give  to  each  of  those  suf- 
fering beings,  who  together,  Filipinos,  Spaniards,  and 
Americans,  numbered  almost  one  hundred,  the  sum  of 
thirty  cents,  no  distinction  of  nationality  being  made. 
Sufficient  funds  were  left  over  for  an  extraordinary 
dinner  on  the  following  day. 

"  And  those  ladies,  inspired  by  the  warmth  of  char- 
ity, a  virtue  binding  together  all  humanity,  drowning 
all  petty  hatreds,  were  not  even  content  with  distribut- 
ing their  money,  but  also  had  brought  with  them  un- 
derclothes and  linen  for  the  most  needy,  besides  an 
abundant  supply  of  cigars  and  cigarettes! 

"  The  patients  received  the  presents  and  the  actions 
of  kindness  not  only  with  thanks,  but  with  tears  of 
gratitude,  and  those  that  were  able  followed  the  kind 
ladies  to  the  door  on  their  departure,  with  exclama- 
tions of  gratitude. 

"  May  the  blessed  virtue  of  charity  live  forevifer  in 
the  heart  of  woman! 

"  Raimundo  Querol." 

"Vigan,  July2i,  1899." 
239 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

For  once  La  Independencia  did  not  prevaricate,  not 
even  exaggerate,  for  such  were  the  facts  in  the 
case. 

But  let  me  now  tell  of  another  instance  where  we 
were  the  objects  of  many  such  acts  of  kindly  feeling 
and  compassion,  and  their  author  never  became  known 
beyond  the  narrow  limits  of  our  ward. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  August  the  hos- 
pital became  so  crowded  that  Chrisolojo  applied  for  an 
assistant.  A  young  doctor,  Gabino  Castro,  stationed 
in  a  northern  town  where  sickness  was  rare  on  account 
of  the  absence  of  prisoners,  was  sent  down  to  Vigan  in 
reply  to  Chrisolojo's  application.  We  all  liked  him 
on  first  sight. 

Lieutenant  Castro  was  a  rather  handsome  young 
mestizo,  tall  for  a  Filipino,  and,  but  that  his  eyes 
pointed  straight  across  his  face,  might  have  been  taken 
for  a  Japanese  of  the  higher  class.  I  believe  that  con- 
stant association  with  suffering  had  on  him  the  oppo- 
site effect  to  what  it  usually  has  on  others,  it  being  well 
understood  that  young  medical  students  gradually  be- 
come callous  and  indifferent  to  physical  suffering  of 
others,  to  a  certain  extent.  Not  so  with  Castro:  his 
heart  was  as  soft  as  a  woman's.  At  his  suggestion 
many  beneficial  changes  were  made  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  hospital,  and  with  his  own  private  means 
he  often  bought  medicines  from  the  three  pharmacies 
in  Vigan,  such  as  the  laboratory  at  the  hospital  did  not 
contain.  His  pay  as  first  lieutenant  was  but  twenty 
pesos  monthly,  and  with  this  he  had  to  support  his 
family,  a  wife  and  three  children.  Still  we  often  found 
a  basket  of  bread  in  our  ward,  of  mornings,  to  be  dis- 
tributed, and  the  "  lechero  "  came  frequently  around 

240 


Lieutenant  Castro 

to  pour  half  a  pint  of  milk  into  the  bowl  of  each  pa- 
tient. We  soon  learned  that  Castro  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  these  little  acts  of  kindness.  Often  would 
he  take  one  of  us  aside  and  slip  a  peseta  into  the 
lucky  one's  hand.  And  how  quietly  he  did  it — dear, 
kind  Castro.  Even  the  Spaniards  spoke  of  him  with 
respect  and  even  love,  and  when  a  Spaniard  speaks 
well  of  a  native,  he  must  indeed  be  good.  As  I  after- 
ward learned,  the  young  lieutenant  would  go  about 
and  personally  solicit  pecuniary  aid  in  our  behalf  from 
the  well-to-do  citizens  of  Vigan,  for  with  his  scant 
salary  he  could  never  have  done  as  much  as  he  did. 

Still,  Castro  was  a  red-hot  Insurgent.  It  was  "  Viva 
Aguinaldo!  "  and  "  Viva  Filipinas!  "  with  him,  always. 
Down  with  the  Spaniards  and  the  Americans,  were 
his  sentiments,  of  which  he  made  no  secret  to  us,  and 
I  respected  him  all  the  more  for  it.  In  the  heat  of  one 
of  his  political  discourses,  in  which  he  often  recklessly 
annihilated  whole  Spanish  or  Amerrcan  armies,  I 
would  suddenly  exclaim :  "  But,  Castro,  if  you  hold 
such  blood-thirsty  views,  as  you  profess  to  do,  why 
did  you  send  the  '  lechero '  around  this  morning  with 
milk  for  each  of  us?  " 

"  I  sent  no  lechero  round,"  he  would  say. 

"  But  Perez  saw  you  give  the  fellow  half  a  peso  to 
do  so." 

"  Well,  that  is  so,  this  morning,  but  the  money  was 
not  mine;  the  cura  sent  it  for  the  purpose." 

As  a  fraud  Castro  was  not  a  success.  The  local 
priest,  or  cura,  often  came  to  make  us  small  presents, 
but  he  never  sent  them.  He  would  not  have  done  it 
secretly  anyhow,  so  we  did  not  believe  Castro  when 
he  tried  to  put  it  off  on  the  padre.    Besides,  the  priest, 

241 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

at  that  time  cura,  has  since  assured  me  that  this  was 
not  the  case. 

God  bless  Castro!  As  the  years  roll  by,  the  misery 
of  those  long  and  weary  days  may  gradually  fade  from 
my  memory,  but  he  will  forever  stand  forth  as  a  ray 
of  light  in  that  dreary  period  of  my  life,  shedding  a 
glow  over  my  recollections  of  that  gloomy  period  with 
a  grateful  warmth. 

Another  friend  I  made  in  the  Vigan  Hospital  was 
a  young  Ilocano  lieutenant,  Bernardo  Villamor,  a 
nephew  to  Bias  Villamor,  at  that  time  Tiiio's  adjutant. 
Although  not  more  than  twenty-three,  he  had  already 
graduated  from  the  highest  colleges  of  Manila,  and 
was  a  fine  specimen  of  an  intelligent  pure-blooded 
young  Filipino,  proving  that  the  original  native  is  by 
no  means  inferior  to  the  mestizo.  He  had  been 
wounded  in  the  foot  by  the  accidental  discharge  of 
a  gun,  for  which  reason  he  also  was  an  inmate  of  the 
hospital,  although  not  of  our  ward,  being  quartered 
with  the  Spanish  officers.  He  often  came  to  converse 
with  me,  showing  a  familiarity  with  the  outside  world 
that  almost  led  me  to  believe  that  he  had  travelled, 
but  such  was  not  the  case.  His  sympathy  with  the 
revolutionary  cause  was  mild,  but  his  admiration  for 
Aguinaldo  evident. 

Shortly  before  I  had  listened  to  rumors  of  Luna*s 
assassination  by  Aguinaldo's  orders  circulating  among 
the  Spaniards,  and  now  I  requested  the  young  lieu- 
tenant, whom  I  certainly  put  down  as  a  sympathizer 
with  the  Ilocano  general,  for  the  particulars  and  his 
opinion  of  the  murder, 

"  No,  no,"  he  protested,  "  Aguinaldo  is  not  respon- 
sible for  Luna's  death.     I  happen  to  know  the  true 

242 


Lieutenant  Castro 

details  of  the  whole  affair  from  personal  friends  of 
mine,  also  Ilocanos,  who  were  in  Cabanatuan  at  the 
time  the  crime  was  committed. 

"  Luna,  you  must  know,  while  a  man  of  rare  abili- 
ties, was  harsh  to  his  inferiors,  and  altogether  a  strict 
disciplinarian.  An  officer  or  soldier  who  shirked  his 
duty  or  showed  cowardice  on  the  battle-field  could 
expect  no  mercy  from  him,  and  on  several  occasions 
he  had  culprits  executed  or  otherwise  severely  pun- 
ished for  such  offences.  This  severity,  combined  with 
the  fact  of  his  being  an  Ilocano,  caused  a  certain  faction 
of  young  Tagalog  officers  to  entertain  a  deadly  hatred 
for  him,  as  many  of  them  had  already  felt  the  weight 
of  his  iron  hand. 

"  One  evening,  at  Cabanatuan,  and  while  that  place 
just  then  formed  the  temporary  head-quarters  of  Agui- 
naldo  and  his  staff,  Luna  called  upon  the  President  for 
a  consultation  in  the  convent.  With  him  was  Colonel 
Francisco  Roman,  his  chief  of  staff  and  warm  personal 
friend.  It  was  this  officer  who  on  February  24th  last 
led  that  disastrous  night  attack  on  Manila  from  the 
bay,  wherein  his  whole  force  nearly  became  annihilated, 
he  barely  escaping  with  his  own  life. 

"  At  this  meeting  Aguinaldo  and  Luna  had  an  alter- 
cation about  some  subject  on  which  they  held  diverse 
opinions,  but  other  officers  present  say  that  it 
amounted  to  no  more  than  a  friendly  argument. 
Shortly  after  this  Luna  and  Roman  departed  to  re- 
turn to  their  quarters.  Hardly  had  they  passed  the 
convent  door  when  several  shots  rang  out.  The  two 
friends  were  found  lying  side  by  side,  Luna  with  his 
empty  revolver  in  one  hand,  Roman  grasping  the  hilt 
of  his  broken  sword,  both  dead.    About  them  lay  three 

243 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

of  the  assassins,  also  dead.  Two  had  been  shot  by 
Luna's  revolver,  the  third  had  been  run  through  by 
Roman's  sword. 

"  We,  as  Ilocanos,  have  lost  a  good  deal  of  sympathy 
for  the  cause  since  then,  but  none  of  us  have  ever  ac- 
cused Aguinaldo  of  being  the  cause  of  Antonio  Luna's 
death." 

Such  was  young  Villamor's  account  of  Luna's  assas- 
sination, which  agrees  in  all  principal  parts  with  what 
has  since  been  told  me  by  other  Filipinos,  both  Taga- 
logs  and  Ilocanos.  Never  have  I  heard  Aguinaldo 
blamed  for  that  crime. 

It  was  not  long  after  this,  when,  having  recovered 
sufficiently  from  his  wound  to  leave  the  hospital,  Lieu- 
tenant Villamor  made  preparations  to  ascend  the 
river  Abra  to  his  home  in  Bangued,  to  finish  his  re- 
covery there.  Here  he  asked  me  if  I  would  be  willing 
to  accompany  him  on  parole,  as  his  companion,  pro- 
vided he  could  obtain  the  necessary  permission  from 
Tifio.  Of  course,  I  expressed  myself  as  only  too  glad 
to  accept  such  a  privilege. 

In  the  evening  of  that  same  day  he  returned  from 
his  visit  to  Tifio's  head-quarters,  but  not  only  had  the 
Tagalog  chieftain  refused  to  grant  him  the  favor  he 
asked,  but  at  the  same  time  advised  him  that  it  would 
not  be  to  his  advantage  to  form  any  intimacy  with  the 
American  prisoners. 

Next  day  he  bade  me  good-by,  departing  for  Bang- 
ued, where  two  of  my  acquaintances  now  were — he 
and  Dr.  Abasilla. 

For  some  time  past  we  had  heard  rumors  of  a  peace 
conference  again.  Chrisolojo  appeared  a  good  deal  ex- 
cited, and  several  times  while  at  his  English  in  his  pri- 

244 


Lieutenant  Castro 

vate  office  he  would  suddenly  exclaim :  "  I  must  study 
hard,  so  that  when  the  Americans  come  here  I  can 
speak  to  them,"  Upon  questioning  him  I  further- 
more learned  that  they  (the  Insurgents)  were  but  wait- 
ing for  the  Americans  to  give  them  a  definite  descrip- 
tion of  the  government  to  be  established,  and  they 
would  lay  down  their  arms.  "  A  government  like  that 
of  Canada,  and  we  will  be  satisfied,  but  these  uncer- 
tain promises  we  now  receive  are  not  satisfactory.  We 
want  a  written  agreement  signed  by  both  parties.  As 
long  as  the  Americans  persist  in  treating  the  Filipinos 
as  savage  tribes,  they  will  refuse  to  surrender.  We 
consider  ourselves  worthy  of  being  treated  as  a  peo- 
ple, and  so  long  as  the  American  Government  persists 
in  ignoring  Aguinaldo  as  our  representative,  so  long 
will  we  all,  Ilocanos  and  Tagalogs  alike,  feel  that  we  are 
being  oppressed." 

One  day  a  cry  from  one  of  the  Spaniards  attracted 
us  all  out  to  the  balcony,  and,  looking  toward  the  sea- 
shore, we  saw  in  the  harbor  the  smoke  of  a  steamer 
rising  above  the  intervening  treetops.  The  ports  had 
been  opened,  we  were  told,  and  communication  was 
established  between  Vigan  and  Manila.  Whatever 
doubts  we  may  have  had  on  the  subject  were  effectually 
removed  the  next  day,  when  two-thirds  of  the  Span- 
iards received  letters  from  Manila  and  Spiin.  Chris- 
olojo  showed  us  a  letter  from  his  brother  in  Cavite,  also 
a  surgeon,  but  employed  in  the  American  hospital.  It 
bore  the  old  familiar  two-cent  postage-stamp  with 
George  Washington's  profile,  so  we  knew  it  was  gen- 
uine. 

Naturally  we  felt  deeply  disappointed  at  what  ap- 
peared to  us  strange  neglect.     "What!"  Chrisolojo 

245 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

exclaimed,  "you  have  received  no  letters?  That  is 
not  our  fault.  Your  Government  authorities  could 
have  forwarded  you  any  amount  of  mail,  as  well  as  to 
the  Spaniards.  Why  don't  they  send  you  books  to 
read?  Undoubtedly  you  all  have  letters  awaiting  you 
in  the  Manila  post-office.  Why  don't  they  forward 
them  to  you?  " 

Many  times  after  that  we  saw  American  war-vessels 
pass  on  the  distant  horizon.  "  If  they  only  knew," 
we  thought,  "  that  the  town  is  garrisoned  by  less  than 
a  hundred  poorly  trained  soldiers,  each  armed  with  an 
old-fashioned  Remington,  and  refilled  ammunition 
scarce,  with  no  retreat  into  the  mountains  within 
twenty  miles  save  the  Abra  Pass  up  a  swollen  moun- 
tain torrent,  what  could  they  not  do  for  us?  " 

Little  did  we  then  dream  that  every  school  child  in 
the  United  States  capable  of  reading  the  daily  papers 
not  only  knew  of  our  presence  in  Vigan,  but  the  num- 
ber of  us  in  the  hospital  and  even  the  amount  of  our 
daily  rations! 

Of  course,  we  often  discussed  the  possibilities  of  an 
escape,  though  that  only  brought  the  helplessness  of 
our  situation  the  more  vividly  to  our  minds.  By  land 
the  Americans  were  over  two  hundred  miles  distant, 
since  we  knew  that  after  taking  San  Isidro  they  had 
once  more  retreated.  To  reach  the  ships  would  be 
equally  impossible,  without  aid  from  some  person  ac- 
quainted with  the  location  of  a  boat,  the  nature  of  the 
three  miles  of  country  between  the  hospital  and  the 
beach,  and  the  ability  to  obtain  some  provisions. 
Many  Spaniards  had  really  escaped  on  the  march,  but 
as  they  were  seldom  guarded,  this  was  comparatively 
an   easy  matter.     Under  similar  circumstances   we 

246 


Lieutenant  Castro 

Americans  would  not  remain  prisoners  very  long,  and 
to  judge  by  the  vigilance  with  which  we  had  been 
guarded  the  officials  evidently  thought  likewise.  On 
various  occasions  I  had  been  approached  by  cazadores 
contemplating  escape,  inviting  me  to  accompany  them, 
but  each  time  some  unforeseen  hitch  had  occurred,  feet 
became  sore,  new  guards,  or  patrols  stationed,  etc.,  and 
those  schemes  never  materialized.  Every  Spaniard 
had  conceived  an  original  plan  for  escape,  but  he  never 
wished  to  put  it  into  execution  himself;  he  gave  you 
the  idea  gratis,  and  you  were  welcome  to  make  use 
of  it.  However,  there  occurred  an  incident  that  stirred 
my  hope  in  a  successful  accomplishment  of  a  scheme  of 
this  nature. 

One  evening,  after  taps  had  been  sounded,  Perez, 
the  practicante,  came  to  my  bedside,  and,  bending  over 
me,  whispered  softly,  "  Inside  of  five  minutes  you 
come  out  on  the  veranda."  When  it  seemed  to  me 
that  time  had  passed,  I  arose  and  tiptoed  softly  out 
on  the  balcony,  where  in  an  obscure  corner  I  found 
Perez,  Manuel,  two  practicantes  from  below,  and  a  ser- 
geant, the  latter  a  patient  from  the  officers'  quarters,  all 
seated  on  the  floor  and  conversing  in  low  whispers.  I 
was  pulled  down  beside  them,  and  Perez  said:  "  Prom- 
ise that  to  no  one,  not  even  your  two  comrades,  you 
will  repeat  a  word  of  what  passes  between  us  here  to- 
night." I  gave  my  word,  and  then  they  unfolded  a 
plan  for  escaping  that  certainly  seemed  plausible 
enough.  By  bribing  a  fisherman  they  had  secured  his 
aid  in  finding  a  boat  hidden  in  a  small  lagoon  opening 
out  into  the  sea.  With  a  few  pesos  saved  from  their 
earnings  they  could  buy  enough  provisions  to  last  six 
of  us  several  days.    This  was  Tuesday.     On  the  fol- 

247 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

lowing  night  a  little  before  the  rise  of  the  moon  we 
would  all  steal  out  into  the  grounds  in  the  rear  of 
the  hospital,  scale  the  practically  unguarded  back  wall, 
and  by  a  road  familiar  to  them  reach  the  boat  and 
launch  her.  Knowing  me  to  be  a  seaman,  they  had 
decided  to  invite  me  to  join  them,  as  they  themselves 
were  entirely  ignorant  of  the  manipulation  of  a  boat, 
and  once  out  upon  the  water  I  was  to  have  entire 
charge  of  the  expedition.  So  feasible  did  this  plan  ap- 
pear, that  I  at  once  became  intensely  interested.  Be- 
sides, the  quiet  and  determined  manner  in  which  they 
spoke,  all  of  them  intelligent  young  men,  impressed 
me  with  confidence  in  the  sincerity  of  their  inten- 
tions. 

At  first  I  felt  some  compunction  at  leaving  Bruce 
and  Edwards  out  of  our  number,  both  of  whom  would, 
I  knew,  not  have  hesitated  a  moment,  but  Perez  so 
strenuously  insisted  that  we  must  not  include  them 
on  account  of  the  scarcity  of  provisions  and  water  that 
I  had  no  choice.  I  must  either  leave  them  or  give  up 
all  chances  of  escaping.  By  following  the  latter  course 
I  did  not  benefit  them — I  chose  the  former. 

When  Wednesday  evening  came  it  was  found  neces- 
sary to  postpone  our  departure  until  Thursday  night, 
as  the  bamboos  of  water,  more  necessary  even  than  the 
provisions  already  there,  had  not  yet  been  brought 
down  to  the  boat.  A  large  mat  and  some  rope,  to  be 
used  respectively  as  sail  and  rigging,  also  remained  to 
be  carried  down,  and  that  could  not  be  procured  until 
the  morning. 

Thursday  morning  I  saw  nothing  of  the  five  Span- 
iards until  almost  noon,  when  Perez  made  his  appear- 
ance, his  clothes  torn,  muddy,  and  wet.    Rushing  to 

248 


Lieutenant  Castro 

the  cot  where  he  slept  he  hurriedly  changed  his  gar- 
ments for  clean  ones,  hiding  the  soiled  suit  under  his 
mat.  As  he  then  went  out  on  the  balcony,  I  followed 
to  learn  the  cause  of  this  strange  behavior.  "  Dios 
moi !  "  he  cried,  breathlessly,  "  all  our  plans  destroyed ! 
Barely  did  we  ourselves  escape;  the  patrol  fired  on  us 
as  we  were  carrying  down  the  water.  Last  night  a 
Spanish  lieutenant  with  four  men  escaped  in  a  boat, 
and  now  they  have  stretched  a  cordon  of  soldiers  and 
bolomen  along  the  beach,  with  orders  to  fire  on  any 
Spaniard  that  approaches  within  rifle  range.  Not 
knowing  what  had  taken  place,  we  went  down  this 
morning  with  the  sail  and  the  water,  and  as  we  ap- 
proached the  boat  we  were  fired  on.  We  scattered  and 
fled,  fortunately  finding  shelter  in  the  jungle." 

This  was,  of  course,  a  death-blow  to  all  our  hopes. 
The  boat  and  provisions  seized,  escape  became  as  im- 
fWDssible  as  if  we  had  been  bound  with  chains,  and  we 
fully  realized  it.  However,  I  had  occasion  to  remem- 
ber this  failure  long  after,  and,  although  it  had  now 
come  to  naught,  it  served  its  purpose,  for  me  at 
least. 

The  Spanish  officer  who  had  made  good  his  escape 
was  a  Lieutenant  Repol,  a  young  Porto  Rican.  He 
and  his  four  companions  were  recaptured  two  days 
later,  the  want  of  water  driving  them  ashore  ten  kilo- 
metres above  Vigan.  Before  they  could  procure  the 
necessary  water,  however,  a  patrol  of  bolomen  discov- 
ered them,  taking  them  down  to  Vigan  again,  where 
they  were  thrown  into  the  prison  with  our  American 
comrades.  O'Brien  wrote  us  an  account  of  their  ar- 
rival and  their  punishment,  and  sent  it  to  us  in  the 
hospital  through  Perez. 

249 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Tifio  was  away  at  this  time,  as  was  also  Bias  Villa- 
mor,  his  adjutant,  the  latter  having  been  appointed 
post-commander  of  San  Fernando  de  Union.  A  cer- 
tain Captain  Reyes  had  been  left  in  charge,  whose 
hatred  of  the  Spaniards  amounted  almost  to  a  mania. 
He  had  Repol  and  his  four  men  strapped  down  to  a 
bench  and  publicly  flogged,  giving  each  one  fifty 
lashes,  the  lieutenant  the  same  as  his  men. 

Two  days  later  Tifio  returned,  and  learned  what  had 
taken  place  during  his  absence.  Witnesses  who  were 
present  afterward  told  me  that  the  youthful  general 
flew  into  a  violent  passion,  almost  venturing  to  strike 
Captain  Reyes,  whom  he  placed  under  arrest  for  some 
time.  "  I  detest  the  Spaniards  as  much  as  you  do," 
he  is  reported  to  have  exclaimed,  "  but  to  punish  an 
act  like  this,  which  we  ourselves  under  like  circum- 
stances would  commit,  is  downright  cowardice! " 

This  Tifio  was  a  strange  character.  He  had  many 
admirers  as  well  as  enemies,  some  of  the  former  being 
also  of  the  latter.  Although  not  twenty  years  of  age 
at  the  time,  he  came  into  command  of  a  brigade  in  the 
insurrection  of  1896  and  1897;  going  to  Hong-Kong 
with  Aguinaldo  after  the  treaty  of  Biacnabato,  and  re- 
turning with  him  again  in  1898  as  an  ally  of  the  Ameri- 
cans. While  Aguinaldo  remained  in  Cavite  to  super- 
intend operations  against  the  Spaniards  in  Manila  and 
the  other  Tagalog  provinces,  Tifio  with  less  than  five 
hundred  men  marched  north,  driving  the  Dons  before 
him.  The  latter,  double  the  number  of  the  Insurgents, 
retreated  fighting,  gathering  up  garrisons  on  their  way 
until  reaching  Tagudin,  where  they  made  their  last 
stand.  Here,  I  am  told  by  Spaniards  themselves,  they 
numbered  fifteen  hundred;   Tifio's  force  about  eight 

250 


Lieutenant  Castro 

hundred.  The  latter  attacked  the  Spanish  trenches, 
Tino  personally  leading  the  charge,  and,  after  two 
hours'  fierce  fighting,  the  Spaniards  fled,  leaving  the 
Tagalogs  in  possession. 

Before  going  further  on  with  this  boyish  general's 
victorious  advance  on  an  invasion  of  the  Ilocano  prov- 
inces, it  is  worth  while  noticing  that  almost  at  this 
same  place,  that  is,  in  San  Fernando,  Tifio,  fifteen 
months  later,  with  about  an  equal  force,  possibly  a 
little  less,  was  in  the  same  position  as  the  Spaniards, 
and  unable  to  resist  the  charge  of  thirty  American 
cavalrymen.  This  seems  hard  to  believe,  but  such  are, 
nevertheless,  the  facts  as  I  gathered  from  authentic 
sources. 

On  August  13,  1898,  the  same  day  that  Manila 
capitulated,  Tiiio  entered  Vigan  and  raised  the  Insur- 
gent flag  over  the  Bishop's  Palace.  Leaving  a  small 
garrison,  he  continued  his  pursuit  of  the  retreating 
cazadores,  who  finally  surrendered  to  him  in  Ilocos 
Norte,  placing  into  the  hands  of  the  Insurgents  two 
thousand  stand  of  arms  and  untold  quantities  of  am- 
munition. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Tiiio  captured  the 
Bishop  of  Vigan  and  over  one  hundred  friars.  I  will 
repeat  a  story  told  me  by  different  persons  claiming 
to  be  witnesses  of  an  incident  which  occurred  at  this 
time,  which  I  consider  undoubtedly  true. 

Upon  fleeing  from  Vigan  the  friars  carried  with 
them  a  treasure  of  several  thousand  pesos  in  silver. 
When  realizing  that  capture  was  inevitable,  the  bishop 
had  the  bags  of  silver  thrown  into  a  hole  dug  for 
the  reception  of  a  number  of  drains.  Covered  by 
the  filth  and  slush  of  this  cesspool,  his  reverence  evi- 

251 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

dently  thought  the  treasure  safe  until  at  some  future 
day  he  could  recover  it.  Some  native  must  have  seen 
this  done,  for  it  reached  Tifio's  ears,  and  calling  upon 
the  bishop  in  person,  who  was  confined  in  the  convent, 
he  requested  him  to  reveal  the  hiding-place  of  the 
treasure,  promising  to  give  him  a  fair  percentage  as 
reward,  and  also  to  treat  him  with  all  the  courtesy 
due  to  his  station.  The  bishop  professed  profound 
ignorance  of  any  hidden  treasure.  Tifio  had  the 
Spanish  prelate  brought  to  the  brink  of  the  pool.  "  If 
that  silver  is  not  forthcoming  within  five  minutes,"  he 
told  him,  "  your  reverence  bodily  enters."  The  bishop 
was  then  obliged  to  kneel  on  the  very  brink,  and  with 
his  own  hands  he  fished  for  and  finally  pulled  out  the 
bags  of  silver,  one  by  one.  Fortunately  the  pool  was 
not  deep,  so  he  soiled  no  more  than  the  entire  length 
of  the  sleeves  of  his  episcopal  gown,  but  it  was  said 
that  so  great  had  been  the  shock  to  his  nervous  system 
that  for  months  he  was  confined  to  his  couch,  whether 
caused  by  the  humiliation  or  the  loss  of  the  money  is 
not  known,  however. 

On  another  occasion,  shortly  after  that  related,  while 
in  Vigan,  Tifio  learned  that  the  captive  friars  were  liv- 
ing well  on  money  sent  them  from  Manila,  while  the 
poor  cazadores  were  obliged  to  subsist  on  their  meagre 
rations.  Before  they  could  hide  it,  the  young  Tagalog 
had  their  money  seized,  and,  having  all  the  soldier 
prisoners  assembled  in  the  plaza,  he  divided  the  pesos 
of  the  friars  equally  among  them,  the  cazadores  cheer- 
ing the  Tagalog  general  lustily. 

But  the  story  of  Tifio  that  has  amused  me  more 
than  others,  and  the  truth  of  which  I  am  also  more 
positive  of,  is  one  that  my  friend  Villamor  told  me,  and 

252 


Lieutenant  Castro 

the  principal  actor  of  which  I  also  learned  to  know 
rather  intimately  afterward. 

There  lived  in  Vigan,  in  the  time  of  the  Spanish 
Government,  a  gentleman  of  proud  old  Castile,  who 
held  a  high  position  in  the  Civil  Service.  As  this  same 
gentleman,  as  I  now  write,  still  lives  in  Vigan,  and 
still  holds  the  same  position  under  the  American  Gov- 
ernment that  he  held  before,  I  will  call  him  Don  Fran- 
cisco, to  avoid  wounding  any  feelings,  which  the  con- 
nection of  his  true  name  with  this  story  might  occasion. 
But,  should  any  of  my  friends  in  Vigan  have  learned 
sufficient  English  to  read  these  lines,  they  will  recog- 
nize the  man — and  smile. 

Well,  Don  Francisco  was  a  very  haughty  gentleman, 
and  demanded  homage  from  all  his  inferiors  in  social 
standing,  especially  from  natives.  Any  Filipino  that 
dared  to  pass  him  without  first  saluting  soon  learned 
to  rue  his  neglect.  Don  Francisco,  being  a  proud  man, 
was  also  very  strong.  Thus  with  his  muscles  did  he 
teach  the  natives  the  respect  due  his  person.  Con- 
sidering all  this,  it  is  really  not  surprising  that  the 
worthy  Don  was  not  especially  beloved  by  the  people. 
Everybody  must  salute  him — it  was  with  him  a  mania. 

But  the  insurrection  came,  and,  along  with  the  rest 
of  his  countrymen,  Don  Francisco  was  taken  prisoner 
by  Tifio's  forces.  Now  the  tables  were  turned,  and  the 
people  cried  for  the  blood  of  their  quondam  oppressor. 
"  Death  to  Don  Francisco !  "  they  shouted  at  the  prison 
gates.  "  No,"  answered  Tifio,  "  he  shall  not  be  killed 
in  cold  blood.  We  are  not  savages."  "  Then  give  us 
satisfaction,"  the  people  cried  again,  "  give  us  satisfac- 
tion for  the  wrong  this  man  has  done  us." 

Tifio  now  issued  a  proclamation,  calling  upon  all 
253 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

who  felt  themselves  wronged  by  this  Spaniard  to  as- 
semble on  the  plaza  the  following  morning,  when  satis- 
faction would  be  given  to  each  one.  All  Vigan  was 
agog  to  know  what  the  proud  aristocrat's  punishment 
for  his  former  arrogance  would  be. 

When  morning  came,  the  plaza  was  thronged. 
Tifio  made  his  appearance,  and  after  him  came  Don 
Francisco,  escorted  by  four  soldiers,  armed,  not  with 
guns  or  bolos,  but  with  rattan  canes.  Then  all  those 
who  had  any  grievance  against  the  prisoner  were  told 
to  form  into  line,  and  one  by  one  they  filed  past  Don 
Francisco,  who  was  ordered  to  salute  each  native  as 
he  passed.  Each  time  a  man  passed,  and  he  failed  to 
salute  him,  the  soldiers  cut  him  across  the  small  of  his 
back  with  their  rattans,  so  he  soon  concluded  to  salute 
each  man.  All  day  long,  from  early  morning  until 
night,  that  endless  file  marched  by,  and  to  each  one 
the  now  humbled  Spaniard  repaid  a  salute  which  at 
some  time  past  he  had  demanded  by  force.  Many, 
having  once  passed,  returned  to  the  rear  and  fell  into 
line  again,  wilHng  to  stand  patiently  waiting  for  their 
turn  to  once  more  receive  their  fallen  enemy's  enforced 
salutation.  It  was  said  that  so  many  times  did  Don 
Francisco  work  his  hand  up  and  down  on  that  day  that 
for  a  long  time  afterward,  when  enjoying  his  liberty, 
he  would  occasionally  be  seen  standing  on  the  street, 
absentmindedly  bringing  his  hand  up  to  his  forehead 
in  a  military  salute,  although  there  might  be  no  per- 
son within  a  hundred  yards  of  him. 

It  was  now  drawing  on  close  to  the  end  of  August, 
but  what  between  the  doctor,  his  wife,  the  two  boys, 
Perico  and  Leon,  and  Castro,  our  time  passed  rapidly, 
considering,  of  course,  the  impatience  consequent  upon 

254 


Lieutenant  Castro 

our  imprisonment.  Everybody  connected  with  the 
hospital  was  kind  and  considerate  to  us,  and,  therefore, 
our  confined  situation  was  far  less  irksome  than  it 
might  have  been.  Castro  brought  us  a  chess  game,  and 
every  evening  played  with  some  one  of  us,  and  proved 
himself  an  expert  player.  He  would  choose  the  black 
figures  and  leave  us  the  white,  and,  then,  when  he  had 
his  opponent  checkmated,  would  joyously  declare  that 
so  would  the  greater  game  end,  the  chess-board  of 
which  was  the  Philippine  Islands,  and  the  chessmen 
black  and  white  regiments  of  soldiers.  But  soon  a 
change  came! 

It  was  nearing  the  change  of  the  monsoons  and  the 
end  of  the  rainy  season,  when  on  a  certain  afternoon 
toward  the  end  of  August  we  were  all  lying  down  on 
our  cots,  the  unusual  fine  weather  making  us  all  feel 
drowsy.  The  sky  was  a  deep  blue,  not  a  cloud  to  be 
seen.  A  light  breeze  floated  gently  up  from  the  south. 
All  of  a  sudden,  several  of  the  nurses,  being  on  the 
balcony,  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and  excitedly  called 
out:  "Vamos!  vamos!  Cafionazos!"  In  a  moment 
all  of  us  that  could  move,  were  out  there  leaning  over 
the  railing.  We  listened.  Sure  enough,  that  same 
familiar  angry  hum,  like  bumble-bees.  The  Spaniards 
were  almost  frantic  with  excitement,  and  we  our- 
selves, although  not  so  demonstrative,  hardly  less 
expectant. 

Several  days  after  this  Tiiio  left  the  town  with  all 
the  troops  he  could  spare,  hardly  half  a  company  re- 
maining to  do  garrison  duty.  We  then  heard  that  the 
Insurgents  had  captured,  looted,  and  partly  destroyed 
the  steamer  Saturnus  of  the  Compafiia  Maritima  of 
Manila  at  San  Fernando,  and  in  revenge  an  American 

255 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

war-vessel  had  bombarded  the  town.  On  the  same 
day  of  Tifio's  departure  all  the  Spanish  officers  quar- 
tered in  the  town  were  sent  up  to  Abra.  Evidently 
Vigan  was  no  longer  considered  safe. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  September  4th,  just  as  we 
had  finished  our  meagre  breakfast,  that  Chrisolojo 
entered  with  a  solemn  face.  "  I  am  afraid  you  must 
go,"  he  told  us.  "  I  have  orders  from  military  head- 
quarters to  send  you  all  over  there  preparatory  to 
leaving  for  Bangued."  We  three  at  once  commenced 
to  roll  up  mats,  pillows,  and  bedclothes  on  which  we 
had  slept,  and  which  Chrisolojo  now  gave  to  us.  A 
corporal  stood  at  the  door,  ready  to  take  charge  of  us. 
The  doctor  looked  on  as  if  sorry  to  have  us  depart. 
Presently  an  idea  seemed  to  strike  him.  "  Do  you 
wish  to  stay  behind?  "  he  asked  me.  For  a  moment  I 
hesitated,  but  Bruce  whispering  in  my  ear,  "  Fool,  if 
you  don't,"  decided  me.  "  Yes,"  I  answered.  "  Then 
lie  down,"  he  said,  "  and  feign  serious  sickness.  I  will 
report  that  you  are  in  a  critical  condition  and  unable 
to  travel." 

So,  bidding  good-by,  Bruce  and  Edwards  left  me, 
confident  that  within  a  short  time  I  should  be  within 
the  American  lines.  The  Americans  having  bom- 
barded and  landed  at  San  Fernando,  we  thought, 
Vigan  would  next  be  attacked.  In  the  general  re- 
treat the  sick  would  be  left  behind.  I  felt  certain 
that  in  such  a  case  Chrisolojo  and  Castro  would  have 
forgotten  me — they  would  have  taken  particular  pains 
to  do  so. 

Three  hours  later  a  message  came  from  the  palace, 
as  head-quarters  was  familiarly  called,  containing  the 
following: 

256 


Lieutenant  Castro 

"  Senor  Director  del  Hospital  Militar  de  Vigan : 
Send  that  American  on,  even  if  he  must  be  carried. 

"  Capitan  Reyes." 

Dr.  Chrisolojo  showed  me  the  note,  and  once  more 
I  packed  up  my  bundle.  The  doctor's  mother  and 
wife  came  in,  the  former  slipping  into  the  pocket  of 
my  ragged  blouse  a  package  of  home-made  cakes,  the 
latter  a  small  bundle  of  cigars.  Tears  were  visible  in 
their  eyes.  Castro  was  gone  and  would  not  return  un- 
til morning.  I  felt  sorry  to  leave  without  seeing  him. 
Having  bid  everybody  "  adios  "  I  started  down  the 
stairs  accompanied  by  a  guard  and  Perico.  The  doc- 
tor came  down,  and,  calling  on  us  to  stop,  slipped  a 
silver  peso  into  my  hand.  I  felt  heavy  of  heart,  for 
now  I  realized  how  kind  these  people  had  been  to  me. 


257 


CHAPTER  XIX 
UP  THE   RIVER   ABRA 

Departure  from  Vigan  — The  Insurgent  reveille  —  Filipinos  as 
musicians  —  "La  Bocana"  —  Scenery  in  the  mountains  of 
Abra — Mountain  cattle — Tinguianes — Arrival  at  Bangued — 
"  Bien,  bien,  hombre  " — "  Dangerous  Character  "  of  O'Brien — 
In  jail  again. 

LEAVING  the  hospital,  my  single  guard  and 
Perico  conducted  me  across  the  plaza  to  the 
palace,  where  Captain  Reyes,  seeing  that  my 
condition  was  not  as  bad  as  he  had  been  given  to  under- 
stand, became  exceedingly  wroth,  but  a  few  words 
that  Perico  spoke  to  him  in  Ilocano  seemed  to  mollify 
him.  I  found  my  companions,  with  the  exception  of 
Lieutenant  Gillmore  and  O'Brien,  confined  in  a  room 
in  a  back  part  of  the  building.  The  Englishman  had 
been  separated  from  the  rest  for  the  last  week  for  strik- 
ing a  guard.  Here  we  remained  until  the  afternoon, 
when  we  were  lined  up  outside,  O'Brien  and  Gillmore 
joining  us.  A  carreton  stood  ready,  and  in  this  Cap- 
tain Reyes  directed  me  to  be  seated,  along  with  the 
lieutenant.  "  You  will  not  need  to  walk  one  step  until 
Bangued  is  reached,"  he  informed  me  in  a  gentler  voice 
than  I  had  at  first  thought  he  could  command.  Sud- 
denly, to  our  surprise,  Arnold  appeared,  and  also 
crowded  into  the  carreton,  and  off  we  went  through 
the  narrow  streets  of  Vigan,  followed  by  an  escort  of 
twenty  soldiers,  and  all  the  small  boys  of  the  town. 

258 


Up  the  River  Abra 

Following  the  same  road  by  which  we  had  come,  we 
at  length  reached  the  banks  of  the  river  Abra,  where 
a  halt  was  called,  and  preparations  made  to  camp  for 
the  night.  A  fire  was  built,  and  around  this  we 
stretched  ourselves  out  to  sleep,  but  even  so,  the  cold 
toward  morning  was  intense.  Long  before  dawn 
reveille  was  sounded,  and  we  arose  to  prepare  for  the 
day's  journey. 

The  Insurgent  reveille,  original  with  them,  is  very 
different  from  the  brassy  blare  that  disturbs  the  morn- 
ing sleep  of  our  American  soldiers.  The  Insurgents 
occasionally  made  use  of  the  Spanish  reveille,  some- 
thing equally  disagreeable  as  ours,  but  their  own  was 
a  complete  melody,  which,  when  played  by  a  good 
performer,  as  most  Filipinos  are,  is  really  a  pleasure  to 
listen  to.  It  can,  in  fact,  not  be  rendered  on  a  bugle; 
it  requires  a  cornet.  So  softly  does  it  commence  that 
the  first  notes  are  hardly  audible,  but  gradually  they 
swell  into  more  volume,  like  a  skylark  descending  from 
on  high  down  toward  the  earth,  its  warbling  growing 
louder  and  louder.  Again  it  sinks  to  a  low  mellow  '  ^ 
strain  seeming  about  to  die  out,  when,  with  a  wild  leap,  'm  i 
it  once  more  bursts  out  into  a  melodious  crash  that 
sends  a  thousand  echoes  back  from  the  neighboring  .  ■ 
hills  which  still  continue  resounding  long  after  the  last 
notes  of  the  cornet  itself  have  died  out.  So  did  the 
reveille  sound  on  that  morning  of  September  5th. 

The  Filipinos  are  naturally  born  musicians;  few  of 
them  but  what  can  perform  well  on  some  instrument. 
Each  town,  no  matter  how  small,  has  its  brass  band, 
and  these  otherwise  ignorant  "  tauis,"  barefooted  and 
ragged,  will  place  the  brass  instruments  to  their  lips 
and  launch  forth  into  difficult  operatic  airs,  which,  aftier  . 

259  #^-.,>    ^ 

\^  ..' 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

having  heard  performed  but  once  or  twice,  they  can 
repeat  without  losing  a  note. 

I  forgot  to  mention  a  little  incident  that  occurred 
to  us  on  the  march  once,  and  which  was  highly  amus- 
ing. We  had  entered  a  town,  and  were  marched  in 
great  state  to  the  presidency,  escorted  by  all  the  local 
police  and  a  brass  band.  To  an  American,  new  from 
home,  the  scene  would  have  been  a  strange  one — 
hundreds  of  dusky  half-clad  natives  on  all  sides  of  us, 
naked,  long-haired  Igorrotes  intermingling  in  the 
crowd,  hoarse  cries  and  shouts  in  a  strange  guttural 
dialect,  the  old  Spanish  convent  of  ancient  architecture 
with  a  background  of  tropical  foliage,  all  suggestive 
of  a  remote  and  unenlightened  corner  of  the  earth, 
whose  inhabitants  evidently  thought  their  own  narrow 
sphere  of  existence  the  centre  of  the  universe.  Pres- 
ently, however,  the  big  bass  drum  ahead  of  us  received 
two  resounding  whacks,  and  we  found  ourselves  march- 
ing to  the  familiar  air,  '*  There'll  be  a  hot  time  in  the 
old  town  to-night."  The  shouts  on  all  sides  now  only 
helped  to  suggest  a  parade  on  election  night. 

These  musicians  had  heard  the  air  as  played  by  one 
of  the  American  regimental  bands  on  the  Luneta  in 
Manila,  and,  after  practising  awhile,  could  go  through 
it  as  well  as  those  they  had  heard  it  from. 

But  let  us  once  more  return  to  the  banks  of  the  Abra 
River. 

Shortly  after  reveille,  dawn  broke,  and  a  number  of 
natives  appeared  who  at  once  set  to  work  at  launch- 
ing three  large  bamboo  rafts  that  had  been  hauled  up 
high  and  dry  on  the  bank.  As  soon  as  they  were 
afloat  a  small  wicker  cabin,  or  enclosure,  was  placed 
on  each  and  the  baggage  stored  inside.    We  were  now 

260 


Up  the  River  Abra 

divided  into  three  groups,  soldiers  and  prisoners  alike, 
each  division  embarking  on  one  of  the  three  rafts. 
There  were  three  raftsmen  to  each,  and  they  at  once, 
by  means  of  pushing  with  stout  poles  or  hauling  by 
long  ropes  of  rattan,  sent  us  up  against  the  current, 
through  whirlpools  and  up  rapids.  On  they  went 
without  once  stopping,  knowing  just  when  and  where 
to  take  advantage  of  a  back  eddy  and  how  to  cut 
around  bends  with  the  least  exertion.  Sometimes  they 
poled,  sometimes  they  jumped  overboard  and  pushed, 
at  other  times  they  would  paddle  or  pull  with  a  will, 
and  when  the  wind  was  fair  they  would  hoist  a  sail,  but, 
whatever  obstacles  presented  themselves,  they  would 
know  how  to  overcome  them. 

By  eight  o'clock  we  were  entering  "  La  Bocana," 
and,  although  up  to  now  it  had  been  calm,  a  terrific 
gale  of  wind  now  swept  down  on  us  through  this  moun- 
tain gorge  or  gap,  which  gradually  died  out,  however, 
as  we  kept  on  ascending  the  river  and  entered  the  pass. 
On  both  sides  of  us  majestic  cliffs  rose  abruptly  from 
the  water,  leaving  no  possible  path  by  which  a  traveller 
on  foot  might  have  passed.  In  one  place  a  long  rattan 
rope  stretched  from  a  small  sand-spit  along  the  bottom 
of  a  perpendicular  rock  wall  to  another  pebbly  beach. 
Here  an  old  native  lived  who  made  an  existence  by 
rafting  travellers  from  the  one  sand-spit  to  the  other, 
pulling  his  bamboo  raft  the  distance  of  several  hun- 
dred yards  by  means  of  the  rope.  Only  in  this  man- 
ner could  "  La  Bocana  "  be  passed  by  travellers  on 
foot. 

As  we  continued  penetrating  into  these  mountains 
the  scenery  became  even  more  wild  and  impressive. 
Far  up  from  outjutting  rocks  goats  gazed  down  upon 

261 


i 

■^ 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

us,  which,  had  they  fallen,  might  almost  have  dropped 
on  the  rafts.  Small  spurts  of  water  shot  out  from 
ledges  hundreds  of  feet  above  us,  and  fell  in  white  rib- 
bons of  spray,  squirming  in  the  wind  like  silvered 
snakes,  while  along  the  banks  countless  little  rivulets 
and  cascades  emptied  into  the  main  river  to  help  swell 
its  volume.  Nestling  among  these  imposing  peaks 
and  ridges  were  little  cafions,  sometimes  broadening 
into  small  valleys,  from  some  of  which  the  nipa  roof 
of  a  lonely  hut  peeped  out  from  the  broad  leaves  of  a 
banana  grove.  Each  bend  in  the  river  opened  up  a 
new  scene,  a  constantly  changing  panorama. 

At  noon  we  stopped  at  a  small  town  built  on  the 
brow  of  a  cliff  overlooking  the  river.  This  was  San 
Quintin,  and  here  we  disembarked,  ascending  a  steep 
path  to  the  top.  For  several  hours  we  were  confined 
in  the  presidency,  patiently  waiting  for  a  promised 
dinner  to  break  our  twenty-four  hours'  fast.  At  last 
it  appeared  in  the  shape  of  a  plate  of  blue-looking  rice 
for  each  and  a  tin  cup  full  of  paw-paw  soup,  the  latter 
strongly  suggestive  of  boiled  watermelon  rind,  but, 
as  our  guards  fared  no  better  than  we  did,  we  had  no 
right  to  complain. 

At  about  3  P.M.  we  again  embarked,  at  liberty 
to  recline  at  our  ease  on  the  rafts,  to  smoke  and  to 
admire  the  scenery.  The  river  now  seemed  to  change 
into  a  winding  chain  of  broad  lakes,  in  which  the  high 
peaks  of  the  surrounding  mountains  were  plainly  re- 
flected, so  calm  was  the  water.  Strange  birds  of  brill- 
iant plumage  skimmed  over  the  surface,  uttering  wild 
cries  as  if  angry  at  our  intrusion  into  their  domain, 
while  some  cattle  we  observed  here  and  there  on  the 
low  banks,  staring  at  us,  would  suddenly  turn  about, 

262 


Up  the  River  Abra 

throw  up  their  tails,  and  quickly  disappear  in  the 
thicket. 

These  cattle  were  not  carabaos,  but  resembled  rather 
fine  Jersey  cows,  and  are  generally  confined  to  the 
mountain  regions  of  Northern  Luzon.  At  first  I 
thought  that  they  at  some  time  had  been  imported 
from  America  or  Australia,  but  a  hump  on  the  shoul- 
ders, just  behind  the  neck,  very  prominent  in  some,  and 
almost  imperceptible  in  others,  would  rather  lead  one 
to  believe  them  of  East  Indian  origin.  The  natives 
often  use  them  to  draw  light  vehicles,  as  quilez  or  car- 
romatas,  for  they  have  the  advantage  over  horses  that 
they  are  cheaper.  They  are  also  sometimes  used  in  the 
carretones,  for  carabaos  are  scarce  in  these  parts,  and, 
while  not  so  powerful,  the  "  vacuno,"  as  the  natives 
call  him,  is  quicker  of  movement,  and  does  not  need 
those  frequent  baths  or  mud  wallows,  consequently 
has  more  resistive  power.  Their  meat  is  excellent, 
while  that  of  the  carabao  is  tough  and  leathery,  and 
their  milk  is  equal  to  that  of  our  American  cattle  in 
both  quantity  and  quality. 

There  were  also  half-naked  men  gazing  at  us  from 
the  banks,  their  flowing  hair  sometimes  hanging  down 
their  backs,  and  sometimes  done  up  in  a  coil  on  the 
tops  of  their  heads,  in  Chinese  fashion.  Some  had  long 
spears  in  their  hands,  giving  them  a  fiercer  appear- 
ance than  they  really  deserved,  for  these,  the  Tin- 
guianes,  a  wild  tribe  similar  to  the  Igorrotes,  are  a 
very  peaceful  people.  A  white  man  need  have  no  fear 
in  trusting  himself  entirely  alone  and  unarmed  among 
them,  for  they  have  all  the  virtues  of  Christians  with- 
out their  vices.  In  appearance  they  are  small  of  stature, 
but  well  formed,  with  muscles  wonderfully  well  devel- 

263 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

oped,  especially  those  of  the  legs.  Their  color  is  per- 
ceptibly lighter  than  that  of  the  Tagalogs,  and  many 
have  a  decided  Mongolian  cast  of  features. 

History  informs  us  that  Chinese  pirates  established 
colonies  in  these  parts  of  Luzon  two  centuries  ago,  and 
the  Spanish,  sending  out  an  expedition  against  them, 
drove  them  back  into  the  mountains,  where  they  set- 
tled down  among  the  Tinguianes.  This  undoubtedly 
explains  what  appears  to  be  a  strain  of  Chinese  blood 
in  them. 

Although  the  rivers  in  other  parts  of  Luzon,  as  I  am 
credibly  informed,  teem  with  crocodiles  or  caymen, 
they  do  not  exist  in  the  Abra  River,  for  the  natives 
bathe  freely  in  its  waters,  and  many  do  not  even  know 
what  a  crocodile  is.  For  the  night  we  camped  on  a 
broad  sand-spit,  but  the  cold  toward  morning  deprived 
us  of  sleep. 

Before  dawn  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  for  five 
hours  continued  steadily  to  ascend  the  river,  which 
now  became  narrow  and  swift  again.  At  length  we 
entered  a  broad  valley,  and  at  about  ten  o'clock  dis- 
embarked at  a  small  landing.  Gillmore,  Arnold,  and 
I  were  given  a  seat  in  a  carreton,  and,  the  rest  on  foot, 
we  commenced  to  follow  up  a  muddy  road  which  ran 
in  a  straight  line  through  rice-paddies,  cane-brakes, 
and  corn-fields. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  we  reached  Bangued,  the 
capital  of  the  Province  of  Abra,  a  town  of  not  half 
the  size  of  Vigan,  but  very  picturesquely  situated  at 
the  foot  of  a  range  of  high  hills.  We  were  brought  to 
the  presidency,  where  a  large  crowd  of  natives  and 
Spanish  prisoners  gathered  about  to  inspect  us,  but 
none  of  them  behaved  in  a  rude  manner.    I  was  sitting 

264 


up  the  River  Abra 

in  the  rear  of  the  carreton,  my  back  toward  the  main 
part  of  the  crowd,  when  behind  me  I  heard  a  famiHar 
voice:  "  Bien,  bien,  hombre,  how  are  you?  "  Turning 
I  beheld  Abasilla's  fat,  good-natured  face  beside  me. 
"  And  how  are  you?  "  he  inquired.  "  Much  better, 
thank  you!"  I  replied,  shaking  hands  with  him. 
"  Bien,  bien ! "  he  exclaimed,  his  face  beaming  with 
a  broad  smile,  "  have  a  cigar."  I  accepted  a  fine 
cheroot,  such  as  were  not  ordinarily  bought.  "  Why 
are  you  riding?  "  he  continued.  I  showed  him  my 
bandaged  legs.  "  Ah!  "  he  retorted,  "  ulcers;  we  will 
soon  cure  them  here.  Good-by,  I  will  see  you  again !  " 
and  shaking  hands  with  me  he  disappeared  in  the 
crowd. 

In  a  little  while  the  local  President  appeared  and 
ordered  us  to  be  conducted  to  the  jail,  a  small,  cramped, 
and  gloomy  brick  and  stone  building.  Here  we  all 
entered  with  the  exception  of  Arnold  and  O'Brien,  the 
former  being  given  quarters  in  the  convent  with  the 
cura,  the  latter  leaving  town  altogether  for  parts  un- 
known. His  action  of  striking  a  guard  had  earned  for 
him  the  reputation  of  being  a  dangerous  character. 

With  these  two  exceptions  we  were  once  more  re- 
united under  the  roof  of  the  jail  of  Bangued. 


265 


CHAPTER   XX 

FILIPINO    FRIENDS 

La  infermeria  de  Bangued — Abasilla's  house — ^The  invisible 
policeman — Liberty  of  the  town — Villamor  at  home — The 
mountain  spring — The  alcaide  relaxes — Aguinaldo's  tele- 
gram— Treatment  of  the  Yankee  prisoners — Domestic  econ- 
omy— Comandante  Peha,  the  Filipino  scientist — Refilling 
ammunition — The  school  of  English — Little  Jesus — His 
brother  Pepito. 

ALTHOUGH  our  new  prison  was  cramped,  the 
alcaide  was  kind  and  considerate,  trying  in 
every  way  to  make  us  as  comfortable  as  cir- 
cumstances would  permit.  On  account  of  my  condi- 
tion I  had  been  placed  in  the  same  quarters  with  Lieu- 
tenant Gillmore,  the  two  of  us  occupying  a  room  in 
the  front  part  of  the  building  overlooking  the  plaza. 
The  others  were  confined  in  a  large  but  gloomy  cell  in 
the  rear. 

Abasilla  came  to  visit  us  in  the  afternoon,  telling 
me  that  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Chrisolojo,  advis- 
ing him  to  have  me  removed  to  the  Bangued  Hospital 
for  further  treatment.  Edwards  had  entirely  recov- 
ered, and  Bruce  also  looked  so  much  better  that  I 
thought  Chrisolojo  had  been  mistaken  when  diagnos- 
ing his  case.  The  doctor  told  me  to  write  an  applica- 
tion for  my  transfer  to  the  hospital,  address  it  to  the 
local  President,  and  give  it  to  the  alcaide,  who  would 
see  it  delivered.    It  was  a  mere  matter  of  form,  he  said. 

266 


Filipino  Friends 

In  the  evening  I  received  a  visit  from  my  old  ac- 
quaintance Bernardo  Villamor,  who  came  in  spite  of 
Tiiio's  warning  to  have  no  intercourse  with  American 
prisoners.  He  was  on  duty  again  as  one  of  the  garri- 
son officers. 

The  following  day  I  wrote  a  letter  to  the  local 
President  in  my  best  Spanish,  as  the  doctor  had  advised 
me  to  do.  In  the  afternoon  two  policemen  appeared 
who  escorted  me  across  the  plaza  to  the  hospital  build- 
ing, where  Abasilla  received  me  at  the  door  and  con- 
ducted me  upstairs.  This  establishment  was  in  reality 
not  entitled  to  the  name  of  a  hospital,  being  classed 
only  as  an  "  infermeria,"  the  building  not  being  half 
the  size  of  the  one  in  Vigan,  but  the  number  of  pris- 
oners did  not  demand  a  regular  hospital. 

Arriving  on  the  top  floor  the  doctor  led  the  way 
into  an  extensive  room  where  about  a  dozen  Spanish 
officers  were  quartered.  Passing  through  this  we  en- 
tered into  a  smaller  room  beyond,  wherein  stood  sev- 
eral chairs,  a  table,  and  two  bedsteads.  On  one  of 
the  latter  lay  an  elderly  Spaniard,  reading,  but  as  we 
entered  he  rose  and  greeted  us.  Abasilla  introduced 
us  to  each  other,  telling  me  that  we  were  to  be  room- 
mates, as  the  other  bedstead  was  for  me.  The  elderly 
Spaniard  was  Captain  Hiado  of  the  Ninth  Battalion  of 
Cazadores,  also  a  patient  in  the  hospital,  but  what  his 
illness  consisted  in  always  remained  a  mystery — even 
to  himself,  I  may  add. 

The  room  was  large  and  sunny,  with  three  sliding 
blinds  or  windows,  one  overlooking  the  plaza,  the  other 
two  affording  a  view  of  the  neighboring  hills. 

I  now  spoke  to  Abasilla  of  Bruce,  hoping  to  have 
him  brought  over  as  a  companion,  but  he  had  ex- 

267 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

amined  him,  and  his  less  experienced  eye  had  failed  to 
detect  what  Chrisolojo  had  seen. 

My  existence  now  glided  tranquilly  but  monoto- 
nously on  for  some  time.  I  had  brought  my  manu- 
script with  me  up  from  Vigan,  besides  a  quantity  of 
old  documents  blank  on  one  side,  suitable  for  writing, 
and  for  several  hours  daily  I  found  employment  with 
my  pen,  or  the  doctor's  pen,  to  be  more  exact,  for  from 
him  it  was  borrowed  together  with  the  ink. 

Young  Villamor  came  to  visit  me  frequently,  bring- 
ing Spanish  novels  for  me,  to  learn  from  and  amuse 
myself  with  at  the  same  time. 

There  were  in  reality  no  sick  in  the  hospital,  the 
only  patients  being  Spanish  officers  who  might  have 
been  ailing  at  some  time,  but  were  all  in  good  health 
now.  They  invited  me  to  join  their  mess,  and  many 
a  pleasant  hour  have  I  spent  in  their  company.  The 
imprisonment  had  somewhat  roughened  them  but 
not  made  them  coarser.  For  the  first  time  since  my 
capture  I  was  able  to  sit  daily  down  to  a  table,  and 
eat  my  meal  from  a  plate  with  knife  and  fork.  Each 
officer  had  his  own  private  attendant  or  "  assistente," 
as  he  was  called,  a  soldier  which  the  Spanish  army  rules 
assign  to  each  commissioned  officer  as  his  servant. 
Captain  Hiado  and  myself  got  on  especially  well  to- 
gether. 

On  the  second  afternoon  after  my  arrival  at  the 
infirmary  Abasilla  sent  one  of  his  servants  to  escort 
me  to  his  private  home  in  the  neighborhood,  for  the 
doctor  did  not  live  in  the  hospital  building.  His  house, 
but  a  few  steps  down  a  side  street  from  the  plaza, 
though  small,  had  a  very  respectable  appearance,  being 
built  of  wood,  with  a  nipa  roof.   The  latter  is  not  always 

268 


Filipino  Friends 

a  sign  of  poverty,  for  even  the  well-to-do  sometimes 
have  such  roofs  over  their  fine  houses,  they  being 
cooler  than  tiles  or  galvanized  iron. 

I  found  the  doctor  in  his  front  parlor  almost  buried 
in  the  depths  of  a  spacious  cane  reclining  chair.  As 
I  entered  he  motioned  to  me  to  follow  his  example, 
so  I  dropped  into  a  similar  chair.  It  seemed  his  object 
in  sending  for  me  was  only  for  the  purpose  of  having 
a  friendly  chat,  and,  puffing  away  at  his  cigars,  we 
discussed  politics.  Later  his  wife  entered  and  joined 
in  the  conversation.  She  was  a  young,  pure-blooded, 
typical  Filipino  woman,  her  features  rather  dark  but 
remarkably  intelligent  looking.  Her  dress  was  that  of 
all  the  middle-class  native  women,  a  low-necked  chemi- 
sette of  maguey  cloth,  with  very  wide  sleeves  only  to 
the  elbows,  and  a  calico  skirt.  Over  her  shoulders 
she  wore  a  fine  shawl  of  real  piiia  cloth,  manufactured 
from  the  delicate  fibres  of  the  pineapple  plant,  and 
embroidered  with  silk.  On  her  feet  she  wore  silk 
"  chinelas,"  a  heelless  slipper  which  gives  to  the 
Filipino  woman's  step  the  sound  of  a  shambling 
gait. 

I  was  invited  to  stay  for  dinner  that  evening,  return- 
ing to  the  hospital  at  nine,  o'clock,  escorted  by  the 
servant  again. 

It  soon  became  the  custom  for  me  to  drop  around 
on  the  doctor's  family  every  afternoon,  and  they  made 
me  feel  very  much  at  home.  For  half  an  hour  each 
day  I  taught  his  wife  the  rudiments  of  English,  while 
she  for  an  equal  length  of  time  expounded  to  me  the 
mysteries  of  Spanish  grammar,  which  she  was  well 
capable  of  doing,  having  a  thorough  convent  educa- 
tion.   Almost  every  evening  I  lingered  until  nine  or 

269 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ten  o'clock,  as  they  gave  me  to  understand  that  the 
invitation  to  supper  was  a  standing  one. 

I  have  forgotten  to  mention  that  the  hospital  was 
guarded  by  a  single  policeman,  who  was  most  of  the 
time  asleep.  He  it  was  who  sometimes  escorted  me 
around  to  the  doctor's  house  and  return.  Upon  the 
first  day  of  my  arrival  Abasilla  had  said  to  me:  "  The 
building  is  practically  unguarded,  but  you  must  not 
venture  outside  unattended;  you  might  compromise 
me  by  so  doing."  This  I  considered  as  binding  as  a 
whole  company  of  guards,  consequently  I  never  al- 
lowed myself  to  be  seen  in  the  street  alone. 

Now  it  often  happened  that  after  I  had  spent  the 
evening  with  Abasilla  and  his  family,  and  the  time  had 
come  to  return  to  my  room,  this  solitary  policeman,  in- 
stead of  waiting  for  me,  had  crawled  into  some  corner 
and  fallen  asleep.  Then  the  doctor  was  obliged  to  con- 
duct me  over  to  the  hospital  himself.  As  I  have  al- 
ready remarked,  he  was  fat,  and  walking  had  long 
ceased  to  be  a  recreation  to  him,  so  he  didn't  like  it. 
One  evening,  when  I  was  on  the  point  of  returning, 
the  policeman  was  again  conspicuous  by  his  absence. 
After  cursing  him  for  some  time,  the  doctor,  who  was 
wedged  in  between  the  arms  of  his  reclining  chair, 
grunted  out :  "  Never  mind;  steal  around  to  your  room 
alone,  but  let  no  one  see  you."  I  did  as  he  told  me. 
The  next  night  I  did  so  again.  Thus  this  soon  became 
a  habit,  and  the  policeman  was  not  even  looked  for. 

One  day  I  asked  the  doctor's  permission  to  visit  the 
prison.  The  policeman,  as  usual,  was  absent,  but  it 
was  broad  daylight.  Abasilla  looked  helplessly  about, 
but  at  length  said:  "Run  across  the  plaza,  but  be 
quick;  I  shall  place  that  miserable  fellow  in  the  stocks 

270' 


Filipino  Friends 

when  he  returns."  But  Abasilla  was  not  the  man  to 
have  anybody  placed  in  stocks,  and  nobody  knew  this 
better  than  the  policeman  himself,  who  soon  reduced 
his  duties  as  watchman  to  an  occasional  tour  of  inspec- 
tion about  the  premises. 

One  afternoon  young  Villamor  appeared  and  asked 
me  to  accompany  him  to  his  house.  As  Abasilla  was 
present  he  requested  his  permission,  although  he  really 
outranked  him.  Villamor's  house  was  some  distance 
away,  on  the  other  side  of  the  town,  in  fact.  He  in- 
troduced me  to  his  family,  consisting  of  his  great-aunt, 
sister,  one  brother,  and  cousin.  Villamor  was  mar- 
ried, but  his  wife  on  this  occasion  was  absent  on  a 
visit  to  her  mother  in  Bucay,  a  town  about  twenty 
miles  farther  in  the  interior.  All  the  male  members 
of  the  family,  five  in  number,  were  graduates  of  the 
highest  colleges  of  Manila.  They  had  a  library  of 
several  thousand  books,  from  deep  scientific  works  to 
light  literature,  and  I  was  given  to  understand  that, 
whenever  I  felt  inclined  to  read,  his  books  were  at  my 
disposal.  Upon  my  leaving,  Villamor  accompanied  me 
to  the  corner  of  the  street  and  then  bid  me  "  adios." 
"  But  am  I  to  return  unguarded?  "  I  asked  him.  "  Oh, 
what  nonsense,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  be  responsible." 

Upon  arriving  at  the  hospital,  Abasilla  saw  that  I 
came  alone.  I  explained  to  him  the  reason,  but  he 
only  smiled  and  said,  "  So  long  as  you  don't  go  out- 
side the  limits  of  the  town,  no  harm  will  result."  This 
practically  removed  the  last  restraint  on  my  move- 
ments. 

Being  able  to  obtain  sufficient  bodily  exercise, 
health  soon  returned,  and  the  ulcers  on  my  body  grad- 
ually disappeared.    It  soon  became  pretty  well  known 

271 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

that  the  illness  on  account  of  which  I  was  in  the  hos- 
pital no  longer  existed,  not  even  in  my  imagination, 
and,  but  for  Abasilla's  friendship,  I  should  have  been 
sent  back  to  the  prison. 

I  now  visited  my  comrades  in  the  prison  daily;  in 
fact  I  wrote  several  hours  each  day  on  my  manuscript 
in  Gillmore's  room,  at  his  table,  for  my  blank  paper 
had  disappeared  so  rapidly  in  the  hospital  that  I 
had  begged  the  lieutenant  to  keep  it  for  me  in  his 
room,  where  the  clean  white  sheets  would  tempt  no- 
body. Several  times  he  had  written  to  the  local  Presi- 
dent, and  even  to  the  provincial  governor,  for  the  lib- 
erty of  the  town,  but  rarely  were  they  even  answered. 
Once,  however,  the  local  President  had  sent  word  stat- 
ing that  he  did  not  wish  to  take  the  responsibility;  if 
the  doctor  in  the  hospital  was  willing  to  allow  the 
American  in  his  charge  to  wander  about  unguarded, 
why,  that  was  his  own  look-out.  Thus  it  appeared  that 
my  comrades  were  in  the  hands  of  the  municipal  au- 
thorities, and  I  still  in  the  charge  of  the  military. 

On  several  occasions  the  Spanish  officers  had  taken 
me  with  them  on  morning  walks  to  a  spring  a  short 
distance  outside  of  town.  It  was  an  ideal  walk, 
through  avenues  of  tamarind  and  banana  trees,  long 
hedges  of  the  maguey  cactus  bordering  the  road  on 
both  sides.  The  spring  itself  gushed  out  from  the  side 
of  the  mountain,  its  source  buried  in  a  perfect  jungle 
of  ferns,  bamboo,  and  a  dense  variety  of  tropical  plants. 
The  water,  pure  as  the  atmosphere  itself,  ran  through 
a  number  of  consecutive  cement  basins,  built  in  imi- 
tation of  some  ancient  Roman  baths.  Into  one  of 
these  basins  we  could  plunge;  the  rest  were  filled  with 
water-lilies  and  other  aquatic  plants.    On  all  sides,  in 

272 


Filipino  Friends 

wild  confusion,  grew  bamboo,  rattan,  cocoa  -  trees, 
coffee-bushes,  areca  palms,  tamarinds,  mango,  and 
banana-trees.  The  overhead  foliage  completely  shut 
out  the  sunlight,  and  even  at  midday  this  nook  was 
deeply  shaded  and  cool.  Here  I  often  brought  out  a 
book  to  lie  down  and  read  in  the  shade. 

On  one  occasion  I  met  the  alcaide  of  the  prison  in 
a  neighboring  tienda,  and  treating  him  to  a  cent's 
worth  of  vino,  which  placed  us  on  the  most  friendly 
footing,  I  asked  him  as  a  favor  to  allow  one  of  my 
comrades  under  his  charge  to  accompany  me  each 
morning  to  the  spring  for  a  bath,  and  between  his 
natural  good-nature  and  the  vino  he  consented.  The 
very  next  morning  I  took  Bruce  with  me,  and  we  re- 
mained there  under  the  trees  for  two  hours.  On  an- 
other morning  I  was  accompanied  by  Edwards.  These 
two  needed  a  change  badly,  and  it  did  one  good  to  see 
how  they  enjoyed  that  invigorating  walk.  At  length 
the  alcaide  relaxed  to  the  extent  of  allowing  Lieu- 
tenant Gillmore  also  to  accompany  us  on  these  morn- 
ing trips. 

Our  condition  kept  gradually  improving.  A  tele- 
gram came  from  Aguinaldo,  who  at  that  time  was  in 
Tarlac,  ordering  the  "  presidente  provincial  "  to  allow 
all  his  American  prisoners  the  liberty  of  the  town  be- 
tween the  hours  of  six  in  the  morning  and  eight  in 
the  evening.  I  have  since  learned  from  authentic 
sources  that  this  same  order  also  provided  for  the  in- 
crease of  our  ration  money  to  one  peseta  each.  Why 
that  part  of  the  order  was  never  carried  out,  probably 
the  provincial  authorities  only  can  tell. 

La  Independencia  of  September  21st  contained  an  in- 
teresting and  highly  magnified  account  of  our  treat- 

273 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ment,  which,  considering  that  we  were  closely  con- 
fined at  that  time  (at  least  all  my  comrades  were),  it 
was  exasperating  to  think  Americans  in  Manila  should 
read  and  perhaps  believe.  Below  I  give  a  literal  trans- 
lation of  this  article: 


"  Treatment  of  the  Yankee  Prisoners." 

"  The  humanity  and  consideration  which  the  Fili- 
pinos feel  for  those  in  misfortune  are  well  known  and 
admitted  by  those  capable  of  judging  us  with  impar- 
tiality and  justice.  Our  culture  and  our  civilization 
are  doubted,  but,  nevertheless,  our  actions  have  proved 
us  to  be  on  a  level  with  those  nations  that  claim  to 
be  our  superiors.  But  what  matter  these  insults  and 
this  injustice  to  us,  if  we  but  comply  with  our  duty 
and  follow  the  dictates  of  our  own  conscience? 

"  To  these  noble  characteristics  of  the  Filipinos  the 
Yankee  prisoners  can  well  testify.  They  can  tell 
whether,  since  falling  into  our  hands,  they  have  been 
treated  according  to  the  customs  of  savages,  or  by 
the  rules  of  international  law.  Fighting  for  an  ignoble 
and  anti-humane  cause,  assassins  of  liberty,  they  have 
been  neither  mutilated  nor  tortured  by  our  so-called 
hordes  of  bandits;  they  have  not  even  been  confined 
to  a  prison. 

"  All  this  we  say  on  the  authority  of  a  friend  of  ours 
who  visited  the  house  where  these  prisoners  reside. 
Each  one  receives  a  daily  allowance  of  two  pesos, 
which  he  expends  for  his  food  and  other  small  neces- 
sities. Their  meals  are  excellent,  almost  luxurious, 
consisting  of  bread,  wine,  and  a  regular  variety  of 
dishes.     For   breakfast   they   have   eggs   and   milk. 

274 


Filipino  Friends 

Bananas,  of  which  they  are  so  fond,  are  supplied  to 
them  in  abundance.  They  are  in  need  of  nothing,  not 
even  cigars  and  cigarettes.  At  their  orders  they  have 
a  servant  constantly  in  attendance. 

"  It  is  said  that  every  morning  the  president  in- 
quires after  their  health  by  telegraph,  recommending 
them  to  the  officer  in  charge  for  good  treatment. 
Their  servant  sees  to  it  that  their  clothes  are  constantly 
clean  and  in  good  order;  a  barber  is  always  within 
their  call.  In  no  ways  are  they  restricted,  being  at 
liberty  to  wander  about  the  country  as  they  please. 
They  show  a  marked  aversion  to  speaking  on  the  war. 
They  admit  that  they  fought  with  no  enthusiasm  and 
that  their  cause  is  both  inhumane  and  unjust,  promis- 
ing to  write  to  their  friends  on  the  fraternal  treatment 
they  receive,  and  how  the  American  officers  have  de- 
ceived their  men  in  representing  us  as  cruel,  savage, 
and  sanguinary. 

"  All  these  details  we  submit  to  the  public,  that  it 
may  understand  the  noble  sentiments  of  the  govern- 
ment, which  wishes  to  comply  with  the  international 
laws  of  war,  although  not  obliged  to  do  so,  in  favor 
of  those  of  the  enemy  that  fate  has  placed  in  our  hands. 
The  noble  hearts  of  the  Filipino  people  rise  above  all 
petty  desire  for  revenge,  and  they  see  in  a  prisoner 
not  an  object  of  abuse,  but  an  unhappy  fellow-being 
that  deserves  pity  and  compassion. 

"  We  do  not  doubt  but  what  all  our  enemies  will  in 
time  be  convinced  of  their  error  in  believing  us  sav- 
ages and  cannibals,  little  above  the  level  of  the  tribes 
of  Central  Africa,  and  that  our  treatment  of  a  fallen 
enemy  is  not  equal  to  that  shown  by  other  nations  in 
similar   conditions,   including  the   Americans   them- 

275 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

selves.    Do  they  treat  the  Filipinos  in  their  power  as 
well?" 

So  wrote  the  fertile  pen  of  the  editor  of  La  Inde- 
pendencia.  Whether  the  gentleman  really  believed  all 
this  himself,  or  only  followed  the  flights  of  his  vivid 
imagination,  we  cannot  say,  but  it  is  also  possible  that 
this  article  was  written  more  for  American  than  Fili- 
pino eyes.  It  was  about  this  time  that,  having  col- 
lected fourteen  other  American  prisoners,  Aguinaldo 
had  them  well  cared  for,  giving  each  a  daily  allowance 
equal  to  a  general's  pay,  and,  having  kept  them  in  this 
style  for  a  few  weeks,  delivered  them  over  to  General 
Lawton  on  September  30th  at  Angeles.  None  of 
these  men  had  been  captive  over  a  couple  of  months, 
and,  naturally,  after  such  treatment,  their  praises  of 
the  Filipinos  ran  high.  This  was  a  clever  ruse  on 
Aguinaldo's  part  to  gain  sympathy,  but  was,  never- 
theless, seen  through. 

The  fact  that  they  would  not  even  allow  us  to  com- 
municate with  our  friends  showed  plainly  that  they 
feared  our  testimony  might  not  be  of  the  most  flatter- 
ing. The  article  referred  to  was  evidently  written  to 
accompany  these  fourteen  "  guests  "  that  were  turned 
over  as  above. 

Given  the  liberty  of  the  town  the  men  made  good 
use  of  it,  but  the  greatest  trouble  was  that  Arnold,  to 
ingratiate  himself  with  them,  kept  them  constanly  sup- 
plied with  vino,  of  which  several,  especially  the  sail- 
ors, took  undue  advantage.  This  at  length  caused 
the  priest  to  have  Arnold's  quarters  changed  from  the 
convent  to  the  presidency.  One  day  one  of  our  men, 
in  a  state  of  intoxication,  struck  a  sentry  before  the 

276 


Filipino  Friends 

barracks,  forcing  his  way  past  his  post  some  distance 
before  he  was  finally  got  under  control  by  the  soldiers. 
I  may  well  ask  what  an  American  sentry  would  have 
done  under  like  circumstances!  Yet  the  offender  in 
this  case  was  not  punished. 

The  men  now  did  their  own  cooking  in  the  jail,  each 
one  taking  his  turn.  Bruce  and  Edwards,  however, 
had  different  ideas  of  domestic  economy  from  the  rest, 
and  the  two  formed  a  mess  of  their  own,  which  Gill- 
more  also  joined  later  on.  Corn-meal  was  cheap,  and 
every  morning  they  had  corn-meal  mush  and  occa- 
sionally corn-bread.  Every  Sunday  they  could  afford 
a  chicken,  and  so  well  did  they  manage,  that  meat, 
vegetables,  eggs,  and  coffee  formed  their  daily  bill  of 
fare.  Rice  never  appeared  on  their  "  table."  But  then 
again  for  vino  they  never  spent  a  cent — they  de- 
tested the  vile  liquor. 

As  for  us  in  the  hospital,  rice  in  some  shape  or  other 
appeared  at  each  meal — for  breakfast  cooked  rice  and 
weak  coffee;  dinner,  rice  soup,  or  vegetable  soup  of 
some  sort  with  a  small  piece  of  meat  each,  and  one 
banana  for  dessert;  supper  the  same  as  dinner,  with 
coffee  and  cigars.  One  day,  however,  a  restaurant  was 
opened  in  town  close  by  the  hospital,  and  our  mess 
was  broken  up,  the  Spanish  officers  preferring  to  eat 
in  this  restaurant.  But  I  took  advantage  of  this  op- 
portunity to  join  Bruce  and  Edwards's  mess  in  the 
prison,  which  was  more  to  my  liking.  I  retained  my 
quarters  in  the  hospital,  however,  although  some- 
times I  was  absent  from  there  all  day.  We  four  now 
messed  together,  Gillmore,  Bruce,  Edwards,  and  my- 
self, and,  considering  our  means,  we  lived  fairly  well. 

I  now  made  quite  a  number  of  friends  among  the 
277 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

natives,  thus  finding  my  patient  study  of  the  Spanish 
language  well  repaid.  One  afternoon  I  met  at  Aba- 
silla's  house  an  Insurgent  officer,  Comandante  Peiia, 
from  whose  acquaintance  I  have  derived  much  pleas- 
ure and  information.  Jose  Pefia  was  a  wonderful  man 
in  his  own  sphere.  He  was  a  Spanish  mestizo,  not 
much  over  thirty,  and  bore  a  strange  resemblance  to 
Antonio  Luna  in  many  ways.  The  Insurgent  Govern- 
ment had  sent  him  up  to  Bangued  to  take  charge  of  a 
"  maestranza  "  or  arsenal  to  be  established  here.  As 
a  manufacturer  of  ammunition  he  was  a  valuable  man 
to  Aguinaldo,  his  deep  knowledge  of  physics,  and  pro- 
found learning  in  general,  gained  under  great  difficul- 
ties, earning  him  the  respect  of  even  the  Spaniards. 

To  begin  with,  Comandante  Pefia  was  a  freethinker, 
which,  considering  the  country  he  was  brought  up  in, 
was  in  itself  extraordinary.  He  had  read  and  studied 
Voltaire  and  was  familiar  with  the  speeches  of  Robert 
Ingersoll.  Seeing  how  I  had  become  deeply  inter- 
ested in  his  conversation,  he  told  me  his  whole  life's 
history. 

In  his  early  youth  he  had  been  a  student  at  the 
Jesuit  College  of  Manila,  where  he  formed  a  lasting 
friendship  with  a  French  friar.  Padre  Fauvre.  Leav- 
ing the  college,  he  opened  a  chemical  laboratory  to 
pursue  his  researches,  but  was  obliged  to  teach  fenc- 
ing to  earn  the  means  wherewith  to  continue  his 
studies.  Later  he  was  arrested  as  a  suspected  Insur- 
gent, at  the  instigation  of  the  Recollets,  and  con- 
demned to  be  shot,  but  here  his  friend  Padre  Fauvre 
came  to  the  rescue  by  assisting  him  to  escape.  This 
decided  him  to  join  the  Insurgents  in  good  earnest, 
applying  himself  to  the  manufacture  of  ammunition, 

278 


Filipino  Friends 

but,  as  he  himself  admitted,  he  was  handicapped  by 
lack  of  proper  means,  and  his  productions  were  in- 
ferior. 

Pefia  was  well  acquainted  with  all  the  latest  dis- 
coveries in  chemistry,  having  been  a  subscriber  to  the 
Spanish  edition  of  the  Scientific  American,  and  to  him 
Edison  and  his  inventions  were  as  familiar  as  to  any 
American  scientist.  When  I  left  him  to  return  to  the 
hospital  that  night  he  invited  me  to  visit  him  in  the 
arsenal  the  next  day,  and  this  I  considered  an  oppor- 
tunity not  to  be  lost. 

At  the  appointed  hour  on  the  following  day  I  went 
over  to  the  "  maestranza  "  in  one  of  the  public  build- 
ings on  the  plaza,  and  found  Pefia  seated  at  a  table, 
surrounded  by  chemical  apparatus,  bottles,  an  endless 
number  of  vials,  etc. 

"  I  am  now,"  he  explained  to  me  as  I  seated  myself, 
"testing  a  new  explosive  which  I  believe  is  superior 
to  what  I  so  far  have  been  using.  With  this  we  will 
destroy  great  numbers  of  your  countrymen."  On  the 
other  side  of  the  room  at  another  table  were  two  as- 
sistants refilling  old  Remington  cartridge  shells. 
With  a  little  tin  measure  they  poured  in  the  black 
powder,  and,  after  wadding  this,  the  bullet  was  fitted 
in.  The  cartridge  was  then  placed  in  a  small  machine 
which  pressed  the  top  of  the  shell  tight  around  the 
bullet,  thus  preventing  it  from  falling  out.  I  heard 
hammering  and  the  clanking  of  metals  in  another 
room,  which  I  was,  however,  not  invited  to  enter; 
but  through  a  partly  open  door  caught  sight  of  a  half- 
finished  gun  carriage. 

The  comandante  then  showed  me  a  small  rifie  which 
he  himself  had  manufactured.    The  barrel,  of  about  a 

279 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

twenty-two  calibre,  he  assured  me  was  made  from  a 
piece  of  shell  the  American  vessels  had  fired  into  San 
Fernando  when  they  bombarded  that  port  shortly 
after  the  capture  of  the  Saturnus.  The  stock  was  a 
piece  of  neatly  carved  native  mahogany.  We  took  a 
walk  into  the  wood  outside  of  town,  where  he  allowed 
me  to  shoot  at  a  bird,  which  I  missed,  though  he  later 
took  a  shot  at  another  bird  and  brought  it  down. 

Peiia's  learning  was  not  confined  to  chemistry  and 
physics;  he  was  also  an  adept  in  natural  history  in 
general,  and  of  the  human  race  in  particular.  He  was 
a  firm  believer  in  Darwinism,  and  I  am  not  ashamed 
to  confess  that  I  learned  many  things  from  him  of 
which  until  then  I  had  been  ignorant. 

Among  other  things  he  contended  that  the  Filipinos, 
especially  the  Tagalogs,  are  recent  descendants  of  the 
Hindus  of  East  India,  assuring  me  that  he  himself 
had  compared  ancient  Tagalog  manuscript  with  San- 
skrit, and  found  a  marked  resemblance. 

Shortly  after  this  I  made  still  another  friend  through 
whose  influence  I  was  able  to  raise  myself  from  a 
state  of  abject  poverty  to  one  of  comparative  afflu- 
ence. This  was  the  representative  of  the  province, 
Sefior  Isidro  Paredes,  who  had  returned  to  his  home 
in  Bangued  since  the  disbandment  of  Congress.  The 
Paredes  family  Hved  in  the  largest  and  finest  house  in 
town.  One  day,  while  out  for  a  stroll,  I  chanced  to 
meet  Arnold  before  the  Paredes'  residence,  and,  as  he 
was  just  about  to  enter  on  a  visit,  he  invited  me  to 
accompany  him.  We  ascended  to  the  floor  above, 
where  Arnold  introduced  me  to  a  fine,  intelligent-look- 
ing, pure-blooded  Filipino.  This  was  Don  Isidro 
himself,  and  I  felt  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of  a  gen- 

280 


Filipino  Friends 

tleman.  Although  but  little  over  thirty,  Don  Isidro 
was  already  rather  stout,  but  his  clear-cut  features 
and  bearing  in  general  impressed  one  with  a  dignity 
rare  even  among  the  upper  classes  of  Filipinos.  Nor 
did  his  appearance  belie  him,  for  he  was  a  man  of  su- 
perior education.  As  Pefia  was  an  adept  in  chemistry 
and  general  science,  so  was  Don  Isidro  as  deeply 
versed  in  arts,  literature,  and  law.  For  years  he  had 
followed  the  profession  of  the  law  in  Manila,  but  at 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities  between  Spain  and  America 
he  had  joined  the  Insurgents,  and  later  was  elected  a 
representative  of  the  Province  of  Abra  in  the  Congress 
at  Malolos.  In  the  course  of  my  visit  I  was  also  intro- 
duced to  the  rest  of  the  family,  the  old  father  and 
mother,  three  brothers,  and  four  sisters.  One,  Mari- 
ano, a  boy  of  nineteen,  was  a  graduate  of  the  Military 
Academy  and  School  of  Agriculture  of  Manila,  and 
now  held  a  commission  as  "  inspector  de  montes  "  un- 
der the  Insurgent  Government,  with  the  rank  and  pay 
of  captain. 

Don  Isidro,  as  he  was  called  by  all  Bangued,  in- 
vited me  to  repeat  my  visit,  which  I  did,  and,  before 
many  days  had  passed,  I  advanced  to  him  an  idea  I 
had  conceived  of  forming  a  class  of  children  for  the 
study  of  English,  of  which  plan  he  at  once  approved, 
furthermore  promising  his  support.  He  kept  his  word, 
for  in  two  days  he  had  gathered  together  four- 
teen children  of  the  well-to-do  families  at  Bangued, 
and,  thereafter,  I  spent  an  hour  each  morning  in  the 
Paredes'  residence,  teaching  the  rudiments  of  Eng- 
lish to  fourteen  little  brown  imps,  who  absorbed  with 
remarkable  intelligence  and  quickness  all  the  informa- 
tion I  gave  them.    Their  eyes  fairly  sparkled  in  their 

281 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

eagerness  to  outvie  each  other.  One  of  the  brightest 
was  little  Jesus,  the  ten-year-old  nephew  of  Don  Isidro. 
So  small  was  he  that  often  I  was  obliged  to  grasp  him 
by  the  slack  of  his  jacket  in  the  back,  as  one  lifts  a  kit- 
ten, and  hold  him  up  to  the  black-board,  where  he 
wrote  what  he  had  learned,  as  clearly  and  correctly  as 
his  taller  companions. 

However,  there  was  one  exception — a  little  fellow 
who  couldn't  learn  until  he  had  spent  half  an  hour  by 
himself  kneeling  in  a  corner,  after  which  he  would 
generally  stumble  through  half  his  lesson.  This 
method  of  hastening  the  comprehension  of  the  young 
mind  did  not  originate  with  me;  I  was  but  following 
the  custom  of  the  country,  and  I  found  it  rather  effec- 
tive. 

My  only  girl  pupil  was  Mercedes,  a  little  bashful 
miss  of  thirteen,  who,  in  her  quiet  way,  proved  as  apt 
a  scholar  as  noisy  little  Jesus,  who  never  could  keep 
quiet  in  spite  of  sundry  whacks  across  his  back  ap- 
plied by  both  Don  Isidro  and  myself. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  my  youngest  pupil, 
little  Pepito,  brother  to  Jesus.  He  was  but  four  years 
old,  but  in  those  four  years  he  had  come  to  the  prac- 
tical conclusion  that  life  was  not  worth  living  with- 
out bebinkas. 

Don  Isidro  had  at  first  not  enrolled  him  as  a  regu- 
lar member  of  the  class,  but  one  day  Pepito  appeared 
himself,  and  asserted  his  right  to  enter  the  portals  of 
learning  as  well  as  the  others,  and  was  admitted. 

I  had  been  teaching  them  all  to  count, 

"  One,"  I  said  in  a  deep  bass  voice,  with  a  suitable 
flourish  of  my  rattan.  **  One,"  they  all  repeated  in 
chorus.    Suddenly  as  if  from  the  ceiling  came  a  little 

282 


Filipino  Friends 

piping  squeak:  "One!"  Looking  around  I  could 
see  nobody.  "  Two !  "  I  continued,  with  all  the  dig- 
nity of  the  learned  professor.  "  Two !  "  roared  the 
class.  A  moment's  silence  and  then  again  that  distant 
mysterious  squeak  from  nowhere:  "  Two-o-o!  "  This 
perplexed  me.  The  class  tittered,  but  I  considered  it 
beneath  my  dignity  to  request  them  to  explain.  Just 
then  my  attention  was  attracted  to  a  comparatively 
dark  corner  of  the  room  where  stood  a  table,  on  which 
were  piled  a  number  of  books.  On  the  uppermost 
volume  sat  a  diminutive  brown  figure  hardly  larger 
than  one  of  the  little  jungle  monkeys,  contentedly  re- 
ducing the  size  of  a  huge  bebinka  which  it  held  in  two 
chubby  hands.  Thus  did  Pepito  acquire  the  founda- 
tion of  his  knowledge  of  our  language  which  he  at  no 
distant  day  undoubtedly  will  be  able  to  use  with  great 
fluency. 

For  teaching  these  children  I  received  four  pesos 
monthly;  moreover  my  position  as  teacher  also  gave 
me  some  social  standing.  All  the  children  of  Bangued, 
whether  my  pupils  or  not,  greeted  me  in  the  street 
with  a  neat  little  military  salute  and  a  "  Buenas  dias, 
maestro,"  as  they  did  the  ofBcial  school-master  of  the 
town,  who  was  a  Government  employee. 

Every  Saturday  I  had  a  grand  review  of  the  lessons 
given  during  the  week,  and  on  these  occasions  the 
school-room  was  crowded  by  the  parents  of  the  chil- 
dren. Even  Lieutenant  Gillmore  attended  then;  and 
it  was  really  interesting  to  observe  how  the  pupils 
progressed  from  week  to  week. 

Then  Don  Isidro  decided  to  take  lessons  himself, 
and  for  an  hour  each  afternoon  I  taught  him  and  his 
younger  brother  Quintin,  the  latter  a  boy  of  fifteen, 

283 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

For  this  I  received  an  additional  three  pesos,  thus  giv- 
ing me  a  monthly  income  of  ten  pesos,  including  my 
allowance  from  the  Government. 

This  enabled  me  to  help  the  mess  along  with  fifteen 
cents  daily  instead  of  ten.  Gillmore  also  contributed 
fifteen  cents,  and  together  with  the  two  ten-cent 
pieces  of  Bruce  and  Edwards  our  daily  mess-fund  for 
us  four  amounted  to  half  a  peso.  On  this  we  lived 
well. 

Since  our  arrival  the  cura  had  sent  us  each  a  suit 
of  clothes,  and,  considering  the  mildness  of  the  climate, 
we  were  not  so  badly  off.  Gillmore  was  well  dressed, 
had  a  number  of  changes,  and  bought  himself  a  pair  of 
fine  boots.  A  Chinese  merchant  in  town  had  given 
me  a  pair  of  canvas  shoes  and  two  pairs  of  socks  for 
teaching  him  a  number  of  conventional  phrases  in 
English.  Villamor  had  made  me  a  present  of  a  new 
straw  hat,  and  the  doctor's  wife  had  her  servants 
do  my  washing,  so  I  had  no  reason  to  complain,  con- 
sidering I  was  a  prisoner  of  war,  nor  had  any  of  my 
comrades,  for  that  matter.  But  for  whatever  little 
comforts  we  enjoyed  we  did  not  owe  any  thanks  to 
the  Government,  but  to  the  good  people  of  Bangued. 

One  day,  while  lying  on  my  bed  in  the  hospital  con- 
versing with  old  Captain  Hiado,  a  native  entered  our 
room,  dropped  a  bundle  on  the  table,  and  was  gone 
before  we  could  speak  to  him.  Taking  up  the  bundle, 
which  was  done  up  in  a  linen  handkerchief,  I  found 
a  slip  of  paper  containing  my  name  in  large  printed 
letters  attached  to  it.  Upon  opening  I  found  a  new 
suit  of  clothes,  a  straw  hat  such  as  only  the  better 
class  of  natives  wore,  two  pairs  of  socks,  and  three 
handkerchiefs.    I  could  not  recognize  the  handwriting 

284 


Filipino  Friends 

on  the  slip  of  paper,  but  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
boy's  face  who  brought  the  present,  and  knew  him  to 
be  one  of  Paredes'  servants.  But  that  was  just  their 
way  of  giving,  and  in  the  same  manner  they  one  day 
sent  a  whole  sheep  to  the  jail. 


285 


CHAPTER  XXI 
A  WEDDING  IN  BANGUED 

The  Paredes — Marriage  ceremony  and  festivities — A  debate — Don 
Lucas  makes  a  speech — We  all  become  school-masters — Con- 
densed milk  —  Spaniards  receive  money  from  their  Govern- 
ment— O'Brien  comes  down  from  Dolores — Swimming  the 
rapids  of  the  Abra — Abasilla's  discourse  on  responsibilities. 

IT  was  in  the  month  of  October  that  a  great  event 
took  place  in  the  Paredes  family.  The  eldest 
sister  of  Don  Isidro,  Seiiorita  Isabela,  was  to  be 
married.  Preparations  were  made  for  weeks  in  ad- 
vance, and,  when  finally  the  invitations  were  sent 
around  to  the  friends  of  the  family,  Arnold  and  myself 
found  ourselves  among  the  number.  All  the  guests 
were  to  assemble  at  the  church  as  the  sun  rose  over 
the  hills  on  that  eventful  day,  at  six  in  the  morning, 
when  the  marriage  ceremony  would  be  performed  by 
the  cura. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  Arnold  and  I,  both  of  us 
attired  in  our  best,  found  ourselves,  together  with  a 
large  crowd  of  well-dressed  natives,  awaiting  the  bridal 
procession. 

Shortly  after  our  arrival  the  church  bells  pealed 
forth  as  the  handsome  carriage  of  the  Paredes  family, 
drawn  by  two  milk-white  horses,  appeared  coming  up 
the  street,  with  the  bride  and  her  maids  inside,  all 
enveloped  in  gauzy  clouds  of  costly  piiias.     In  their 

286 


A  Wedding  in  Bangued 

black  hair,  which  hung  down  over  their  shoulders 
loosely,  sprays  of  flowers  had  been  inserted.  With  the 
exception  of  a  white  veil,  depending  from  the  back  of 
her  head,  as  the  mantilla  is  worn  by  the  Spanish 
women,  the  bride  was  dressed  exactly  like  her  com- 
panions in  the  carriage,  three  in  number,  A  second 
carriage  contained  the  bridegroom,  a  young  local 
merchant,  and  three  groomsmen,  all  attired  in  black 
dress-suits,  which  became  them  well.  Following  the 
vehicles  came  the  family  and  relations  on  foot,  Don 
Isidro,  his  three  brothers,  and  father  bringing  up  the 
rear.  At  the  church-door  the  bridegroom,  having 
alighted  from  the  carriage,  assisted  the  bride  to  do 
likewise,  and  arm  in  arm  they  entered  the  church, 
followed  by  the  bridesmaids  and  the  groomsmen  in 
couples.  Arnold  and  I  joined  Don  Isidro,  who  es- 
corted us  inside,  but  so  crowded  was  the  church  that 
we  could  see  but  little  of  the  ceremony.  The  whole 
occupied  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  the 
now  married  pair  returned  to  the  carriages  and  were 
seated  beside  each  other.  The  brass  band  leading  the 
way  with  a  wedding  march,  the  procession  started  to 
return  to  the  bride's  house,  Don  Isidro  and  we  bring- 
ing up  the  rear. 

Flowers  are  not  plentiful  in  the  Philippines,  but  the 
Paredes  house  was  literally  hidden  in  the  green  deco- 
rations of  palm  and  banana  leaves,  ferns,  and  tropical 
verdure  of  all  sorts.  At  least  one  hundred  persons  sat 
down  to  the  breakfast-table  shortly  after  our  arrival. 
I  tried  to  count  the  number  of  dishes  placed  before  us, 
but  the  variety  was  so  great  I  gave  up  the  efifort. 

After  breakfast  the  hangings  and  draperies  in  front 
of  the  doors  to  the  adjoining  ball-room  were  thrown 

287 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

aside  and  the  guests  filed  in,  seating  themselves  about, 
against  the  walls.  Lucas,  the  eldest  brother  of  Don 
Isidro,  performed  on  the  piano,  accompanying  a  violin, 
and  to  this  music  the  dancing  began.  In  another  and 
smaller  room  adjoining,  the  older  guests  v^^ere  seated 
at  small  tables,  playing  cards,  chess,  and  dominoes. 
Out  in  the  dining-room  stood  vino  and  "  basit "  on 
tap.  This  latter  is  a  red  wine  made  of  sugar-cane 
flavored  with  the  bark  of  a  certain  indigenous  tree, 
the  name  of  which  has  escaped  my  memory.  One  side 
of  the  room  was  covered  by  a  long  table  loaded  down 
with  all  sorts  of  delicacies,  where  you  might  help  your- 
self whenever  so  inclined. 

It  was  a  gay  gathering — you  stood  on  no  ceremony 
with  anybody.  Even  if  you  had  never  seen  your  neigh- 
bors before,  you  simply  addressed  them  like  old  ac- 
quaintances. I  sat  conversing  with  a  young  lady,  a 
mestiza,  and  as  fair  as  the  average  of  American  girls, 
and  if  she  knew  me  to  be  a  prisoner,  of  which  there 
could  hardly  be  a  doubt,  she  did  not  in  the  least  make 
me  aware  of  it.  Many  Spanish  officers  were  present, 
dressed  in  their  best  uniforms,  shoulder-straps  and  tin- 
sel. Colonel  Cuesta,  Spanish  Military  Governor  of  the 
province  in  former  times,  appeared  with  his  staff,  and 
had  a  stranger  seen  them  and  then  been  told  that  they 
were  prisoners  he  wo^ild  have  experienced  some  diffi- 
culty in  believir^  it. 

Between  the  dances  there  were  recitations  and  vocal 
solos.  A  young  Spanish  officer  and  a  mestiza  belle 
danced  a  fandango  together,  but  what  mostly  inter- 
ested me  was  a  debate  between  two  young  ladies  on 
the  pros  and  cons  of  an  American  Government  in  the 
Islands.    One  took  the  part  of  America  and  was  deco- 

288 


A  Wedding  in  Bangued 

rated  with  red,  white,  and  blue  ribbons.  The  other 
represented  the  Philippines  and  wore  the  Insurgent 
flag  for  a  sash.  Both  were  handsome  girls,  and  as  they 
stood  on  the  floor  facing  each  other,  their  large  black 
eyes  flashed  as  they  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  dis- 
course. Sefiorita  America  opened  up  with  an  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  annexation,  couched  in  poetical  lan- 
guage : 

"  The  American  Eagle  spreads  his  wings  over  the 
child  *  Filipinas '  to  protect  it,  which,  having  lost  its 
cruel  and  unnatural  mother,  Spain,  cannot  understand 
its  new  parent  and  protector,  doubts  its  good  inten- 
tions," etc.  She  finished  up  her  arguments  amid  a 
dead  silence.  Then  Sefiorita  Filipinas  flew  in.  So 
rapid  and  heated  was  her  reply  that  I  could  hardly 
follow,  and  but  imperfectly  understood  it,  but  with 
such  force  and  enthusiasm  did  she  speak,  and  such 
spirit  did  she  manage  to  infuse  into  her  impassioned 
words,  that  for  the  moment  I  forgot  that  I  was  an 
American  and  believed  myself  a  Filipino,  to  such  an 
extent  that  I  almost  joined  in  the  burst  of  applause  that 
followed. 

At  one  o'clock  dinner  was  served,  followed  by  the 
usual  speechmaking.  Everj^body  was  called  upon  to 
say  something,  and  Arnold  and  I  did  not  escape. 
Lucas,  however,  made  the  address  of  the  day.  After  a 
few  introductory  remarks  on  the  future  happiness  of 
the  young  couple,  he  went  on :  "  But  let  us  all  be 
merry  this  day  at  least,  and  let  the  good  feeling  of 
brothers  and  friends  exist  among  us.  We  are  assem- 
bled here,  Spaniards,  Americans,  and  Filipinos,  repre- 
sentatives of  the  three  factors  in  the  present  trouble. 
We  may  all  be  good  patriots  to  our  different  causes 

289 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

and  countries,  and  fight  for  our  different  flags  if  neces- 
sary, but  why  should  the  troubles  and  quarrels  of  our 
respective  governments  be  imitated  by  individuals? 
Although  we  be  at  war  with  Spain  or  America,  may 
we  not  clasp  the  hand  of  a  Spaniard  or  an  American 
and  call  him  friend?  I  think  we  may.  I  am  a  Filipino, 
and  always  will  be,  but  when  I  grasp  the  hand  of  a 
friend  I  do  not  ask:  Is  he  also  a  Filipino?  or  is  he  a 
Spaniard,  or  a  German?  That  he  is  my  friend  sufifices, 
that  he  is  a  man  and  has  the  good  qualities  of  a  true 
man — therein  lies  the  distinction.  Let  us  then  for  to- 
day forget  politics  and  national  prejudices,  and  meet 
on  the  common  footing  of  friendship.  To-day  we  are 
neither  Filipinos,  Spaniards,  nor  Americans,  but  men, 
just  common,  ordinary  men — friends." 

I  did  not  take  a  shorthand  report  of  the  speech  as 
Don  Lucas  made  it,  but  the  above  words  are  the  gist 
of  his  discourse,  as  I  remember  it.  The  expression  of 
his  face  as  he  uttered  it  convinced  me  of  his  sincerity. 
He  was  loudly  applauded,  and  this  time  I  joined  in 
heartily. 

After  dinner  the  guests  retired  for  the  siesta,  but 
at  four  o'clock  chocolate  and  cakes  were  served,  and 
the  programme  of  the  morning  was  continued,  Lucas 
proving  that  he  could  sing  as  well  as  speak. 

Supper  was  served  at  eight,  by  which  time  all  the 
gentlemen  were  growing  more  or  less  merry,  but  only 
enough  to  make  the  party  a  greater  success.  The 
bridegroom  seemed  to  be  in  a  continual  worry  that  the 
"  basit  "  was  not  being  distributed  freely  enough,  but 
he  was  really  the  only  one  who  felt  uneasy  on  that 
score.  At  about  midnight  the  party  gradually  broke 
up,  and  Arnold  and  I  returned  to  our  separate  quar- 

290 


A  Wedding  in  Bangued 

ters  with  a  rather  indistinct  understanding  that  we 
were  to  return  on  the  next  day. 

On  the  succeeding  day  all  the  American  prisoners 
were  invited  to  a  grand  dinner  for  them  alone,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  Gillmore,  all  were  present.  Ar- 
nold made  an  after-dinner  speech  in  Enghsh. 

The  second  day  after  the  wedding  saw  our  lessons 
once  more  resumed,  for  not  only  did  Don  Isidro 
and  his  brother  Quintin  study  English,  but  the  young- 
est of  the  brothers  also  received  tuition  in  higher 
mathematics  from  a  Spanish  officer  who  taught  him 
daily. 

Our  condition  continued  improving  day  by  day. 
Those  of  us  who  had  taken  the  trouble  to  study  Span- 
ish now  found  their  reward  in  being  able  to  teach  Eng- 
lish, for  which  they  all  were  more  or  less  well  paid. 
Those  that  had  once  declared  their  intention  of  never 
learning  the  "  darned  lingo  "  now  depended  entirely 
on  what  their  more  energetic  companions  gave  them. 
Bruce  found  two  pupils  who  paid  him  four  pesos 
monthly.  Vaudoit,  the  Frenchman,  taught  one  young 
man  French,  but  if  he  had  not  known  Spanish  he  could 
not  have  done  so.  Honeyman  also  had  several  pupils, 
for  which  he  received  both  money  and  cigars,  and  Ed- 
wards taught  several  of  the  local  Chinese  merchants. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  one-half  of  a  case  of  the 
provisions  Arnold  had  seen  in  San  Jose  reached  us. 
There  was  just  one  tin  of  condensed  milk  and  one  of 
preserved  fruit  for  each,  and  a  small  bag  of  ground 
cofifee  void  of  all  flavor.  But  when  we  considered  that 
these  supplies  had  followed  us  from  San  Isidro,  it  is 
to  the  credit  of  the  Filipinos  that  any  at  all  reached  us. 
We  have  but  to  glance  at  similar  cases  in  our  own 

291 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Civil  War,  and,  comparing  them,  see  if  our  country- 
men would  have  done  better  under  similar  circum- 
stances. I  feel  convinced  that,  had  we  remained  at 
San  Isidro,  the  greater  part  of  these  provisions  would 
have  reached  us.  But  how  we  would  have  appreciated 
letters  from  home,  waiting  for  us  in  the  Manila  Post- 
office,  or  even  a  few  cheap  novels,  in  preference  to 
"  bottled  lemonade  "  or  plug  tobacco !  Nevertheless, 
we  felt  deeply  grateful  to  whoever  sent  those  provi- 
sions. 

The  Spaniards  fared  better.  Each  officer  received 
twenty  pesos,  and  each  common  soldier  five.  This 
money  was  sent  through  by  the  Spanish  Government, 
and  not  a  cent  was  stolen  or  misappropriated.  Some  of 
the  Spaniards  had  the  ill  manners  to  flaunt  this  money 
in  our  faces  and  say :  "  You  see,  with  all  its  boasted 
riches,  your  Government  does  not  provide  for  its  suf- 
fering soldiers.  Spain  is  poor,  but  she  remembers  her 
sons  when  in  distress.  Bah,  with  such  a  powerful  Gov- 
ernment as  yours,  you  are  worse  off  than  we."  We 
made  some  lame  attempts  at  arguing  with  them,  but 
lacked  conviction  ourselves. 

The  Spaniards  were  now  able  to  live  in  comparative 
affluence,  dining  and  wining  on  the  best  the  country 
could  afford,  while  we  still  had  to  cling  to  corn-meal 
mush;  occasionally,  however,  we  profited  by  their 
generosity. 

Several  times  we  had  received  letters  from  O'Brien 
by  both  natives  and  Spaniards.  He  was  now  in  Do- 
lores, a  small  town  five  miles  farther  up  the  river,  and, 
excepting  that  he  felt  lonely  and  not  too  well  fed,  was 
well  treated.  One  day  we  heard  that  he  was  sick, 
and  I  went  to  the  Provincial  Governor  for  a  pass  to 

292 


A  Wedding  in  Bangued 

visit  him,  a  privilege  often  granted  to  the  Spaniards, 
of  whom  quite  a  number  were  quartered  in  neighbor- 
ing towns.  My  request  was  refused,  but  the  Govern- 
or assured  me  that  O'Brien  would  be  sent  for.  Sure 
enough,  he  put  in  an  appearance  the  following  day, 
ragged  and  bewhiskered,  but  not  sick.  It  had  been 
a  false  report,  but  he  was,  nevertheless,  allowed  to  stay, 
and  quartered  at  the  hospital,  though  not  in  the  same 
room  with  me. 

Often  did  we  take  walks  into  the  surrounding  coun- 
try. Edwards  and  I  frequently  went  to  the  river  for  a 
swim.  The  Abra  River  forms  a  semicircle  about  Ban- 
gued. We  would  walk  due  north,  and  in  half  an  hour 
strike  the  river.  Tying  our  clothes  on  our  backs,  we 
would  plunge  in,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  would  be 
five  miles  farther  down,  but  not  more  than  two  miles 
south  of  Bangued.  This  swim  we  often  took,  and  fre- 
quently the  natives,  seeing  us,  would  warn  us  against 
the  rapids  and  under-currents.  Abasilla,  too,  warned 
me  of  the  dangers  of  the  Abra  River.  "  You  will  some 
day  meet  with  misfortune,  and  then  your  countrymen 
will  blame  us." 

"  I  am  a  good  swimmer,"  I  replied.  "  You  are  prob- 
ably afraid  that  I  shall  escape." 

The  doctor  laughed.  "  You  can*t  escape,"  he 
chuckled.  "  La  Bocana  is  well  guarded,  and  even  an 
Igorrote  couldn't  climb  the  mountains." 

"  The  fear  of  compromising  you  would  restrain  me 
more  than  a  dozen  mountains." 

"  Bah,  don't  let  that  detain  you.  If  ever  you  take 
a  notion  to  escape,  go  ahead.  In  the  beginning  it  was 
different,  I  was  then  responsible  for  you,  but  the  mo- 
ment Aguinaldo  ordered  that  the  American  prisoners 

293 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

be  given  the  liberty  of  the  town,  my  responsibility 
ceased.    I  am  not  your  jailer." 

His  tone  seemed  half  serious,  half  jesting.  At  this 
time  I  had  no  idea  of  escaping,  but,  nevertheless,  the 
doctor's  v^ords  threw  a  new  light  on  my  situation,  in 
which  I  never  before  had  seen  it. 

"  If  you  knew  that  I  was  going  to  escape,"  I  con- 
tinued, affecting  a  serious  tone,  "  what  would  you  do?  " 

"  Formerly  I  would  have  had  you  returned  to  the 
prison.  Now  I  would  shrug  my  shoulders  and  say: 
This  is  not  my  affair — good-luck  to  you !  " 


294 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  MEETINGS  IN  THE  HOSPITAL 

Cock-fighting  prohibited  by  Aguinaldo — An  American  vessel  fires 
on  Vigan — Concentration  of  Spanish  prisoners — General 
Peiia,  the  proud  Castilian — Twenty  men  to  guard  two  thou- 
sand— Lieutenant  Bustos  speaks  his  mind — Paciencia — A 
plan  for  salvation — A  Spanish  officer's  opinion  of  the  Amer- 
icans— Guillermo — Pedro — Gillmore  writes  the  message — Ar- 
nold becomes  an  American  citizen — Adios  Bangued. 

FOR  the  past  two  months  our  Hves  had  been 
gliding  monotonously,  although  not  unpleas- 
antly, along,  but  in  the  beginning  of  Novem- 
ber new  events  took  place,  which  promised  a  radical 
change  in  our  situation. 

Colonel  Bias  Villamor  paid  Bangued,  his  native 
town,  a  visit  about  this  time,  and  he  was  as  a  matter 
of  course  received  with  fiestas  and  great  rejoicing,  for 
Bangued  was  proud  of  him.  On  this  occasion  I  wit- 
nessed my  first  cock-fight  in  the  Insurgent  country. 
The  Americans  allow  this  sport  to  be  carried  on  with 
almost  no  restraint,  and  of^cers  even  encourage  the 
pits  by  their  presence,  but  in  Aguinaldo's  territory  it 
was  strictly  prohibited  unless  on  some  great  occasion, 
when  especial  permits  were  granted.  The  higher  class 
and  more  thoughtful  Filipinos  are  against  this  na- 
tional pastime,  however,  since  it  discourages  labor  and 
ambition. 

295 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

During  Bias  Villamor's  stay  in  Bangued  rumors  be- 
came rife  of  a  general  advance  of  the  Americans.  This 
did  not  greatly  excite  us,  since  we  long  ago  had  lost 
faith  in  those  advances,  but  when  young  Lieutenant 
Villamor  called  for  me  one  day,  asserting  that  he 
was  going  to  the  front  with  his  uncle,  it  became  evi- 
dent that  something  unusual  was  taking  place.  I  ac- 
companied my  friend  to  his  home,  where  he  intro- 
duced me  to  his  uncle,  who,  however,  remembered  me 
as  the  sick  prisoner  in  Vigan  hospital. 

I  also  gave  Bernardo  a  letter  addressed  to  any  of 
my  countrymen  whose  eyes  it  might  meet,  request- 
ing him  to  treat  the  bearer,  Lieutenant  Bernardo  Villa- 
mor, with  the  kindness  and  consideration  that  he 
had  extended  to  American  prisoners,  especially  the 
writer,  simply  signing  my  name  and  "  An  Ameri- 
can Prisoner."  This  was  to  meet  possible  contin- 
gencies. 

Next  day  he  left  for  Tarlac  via  Vigan,  and  I  never 
saw  him  again. 

A  few  days  later  Spaniards  from  Vigan  brought 
the  news  that  an  American  vessel  had  bombarded  the 
beach  and  killed  an  old  man's  carabao,  also  destroy- 
ing the  hut.  A  few  days  later  prisoners  began  to  ar- 
rive by  hundreds  from  Vigan  and  other  coast  towns, 
until  almost  one  thousand  cazadores  were  concen- 
trated at  Bangued.  Paredes  quartered  four,  Abasilla 
two,  and  so  each  householder  was  obliged  to  bear  a 
share  of  the  public  burden  according  to  his  circum- 
stances. Many  were  also  sent  to  neighboring  villages, 
and  altogether  there  were  in  the  Province  of  Abra  at 
this  time  at  least  2,000  Spanish  prisoners. 

General  Pefia,  the  former  Military  Governor  of  Ca- 
296 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

vite,  also  appeared,  almost  with  all  the  ceremony  and 
state  of  a  king,  being  accompanied  by  his  staff  and 
quartered  alone  in  one  of  the  finest  residences  in  town. 
Considering  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  his  display  and 
assumption  were  laughable.  Only  eighteen  months 
before,  when  captured  in  Cavite,  he  had  been  thrown 
in  among  his  own  soldiers  and  compelled  to  stand 
in  file  with  them,  answering  roll-call  with  the  rest. 
Money  had  been  sent  to  him  from  Manila  by  his  wife, 
and  now  he  travelled  in  great  state.  The  treatment 
he  now  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Filipinos  was  al- 
most the  same  as  that  extended  to  one  of  their  own 
generals. 

The  arriving  Spaniards  told  us  many  tales  of  vessels 
passing  Vigan  daily,  but  of  one  in  particular,  a  large 
white-painted  battle-ship.  When  we  told  Gillmore 
this,  he  exclaimed,  "  I'll  bet  it's  the  Oregon." 

Although  the  prisoners  now  crowded  the  town,  the 
garrison  consisted  of  but  twenty  soldiers,  the  coman- 
dante,  whose  name  also  was  Pefia,  one  lieutenant,  and 
one  sergeant,  and  besides  these  there  was  not  another 
Insurgent  soldier  in  the  whole  Province  of  Abra. 
Vigan  was  garrisoned  by  a  force  of  fifty  men  under 
command  of  General  Natividad,  who  was  a  cripple, 
having  been  wounded  by  an  American  shell  in  the  early 
part  of  the  war.  Tiiio  was  in  Tarlac  with  the  main 
army,  and  Villamor  with  four  hundred  men  was  on  the 
way  down  the  coast  toward  Dagupan,  where  an  Ameri- 
can landing  was  reported. 

How  easily,  then,  could  the  2,000  prisoners  in  the 
province  have  taken  possession  of  Bangued  and 
marched  down  on  Vigan  and  taken  it  too.  We  also 
had  it  from  authentic  sources  that  in  case  the  Ameri- 

297 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

cans  disembarked  troops  at  Vigan,  Natividad  would 
fall  back  and  drive  us  all  into  the  mountains. 

One  evening  the  subject  of  rising  in  revolt  was 
seriously  broached  among  the  Spanish  officers  in  the 
hospital.  The  hottest  of  all  in  its  favor  was  a  Lieuten- 
ant Bustos,  who,  on  this  particular  evening,  made  a 
fiery  speech:  "Let  us  rise  like  men,"  he  said,  "and 
overpower  this  handful  of  monkeys,  who  guard  us  as  if 
we  were  sheep.  Then,  with  twenty  Remingtons,  and 
thirty  Mausers  that  I  know  are  in  the  arsenal,  stowed 
away  in  boxes,  let  us  march  down  to  Vigan,  capture  the 
town,  and  signal  to  the  American  vessels  that  pass 
daily."  Many  were  in  favor  of  this,  but  only  a  small 
minority  were  willing  to  put  General  Pefia's  advice 
aside,  whose  policy,  as  everybody  knew,  was  "  pacien- 
cia,"  which,  considering  that  he  suffered  no  hardships, 
was  hardly  a  virtue.  A  formal  meeting  of  twenty 
Spanish  officers  was  held  in  the  hospital  two  or  three 
evenings  after  this,  and  guards  placed  at  doors  and 
windows  to  warn  us  of  any  strangers'  approach,  as  their 
confidence  in  me  had  warranted  their  invitation  to  be 
present  on  this  occasion.  Had  Lieutenant  Gillmore 
been  able  to  understand  Spanish  they  would  have  in- 
vited him  also  to  attend,  but  I  was  instructed  to  keep 
him  informed,  and  ask  his  opinion. 

At  this  first  meeting  a  committee  of  three  was  ap- 
pointed to  wait  on  General  Pefia  the  following  day,  and 
endeavor  to  persuade  him  to  give  his  consent  to  an 
active  effort  on  our  part  to  obtain  the  liberty  of  2,000 
prisoners.  Then  we  adjourned  to  assemble  again  on 
the  succeeding  night. 

I  told  Gillmore  of  our  meeting,  but  so  strenuously 
<iid  he  oppose  the  idea  of  any  violent  action  that  I 

298 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

dropped  the  subject.  "  No,"  he  exclaimed,  "  such  an 
undertaking  would  end  disastrously,  and  the  Insur- 
gents would  then  have  the  right  to  execute  us  after- 
ward." 

When  evening  came  we  again  assembled,  Lieuten- 
ant Bustos  acting  as  chairman.  The  three  officers  had 
interviewed  General  Peiia,  but  he  had  not  only  refused 
his  consent,  but  forbidden  them  to  attempt  any  overt 
action.  They  then  asked  me  Lieutenant  Gillmore's 
opinion,  but  I  said  vaguely  that  the  Americans  would 
support  any  uprising  for  liberty,  and  I  felt  that  I  spoke 
the  truth  of  them  as  a  whole. 

Some  were  in  favor  of  entirely  disregarding  Gen- 
eral Peiia  and  taking  the  garrison  the  following  night, 
but  they  were  in  a  minority.  Said  the  majority :  "  Let 
us  wait  until  the  Americans  disembark  in  Vigan,  then 
with  or  without  the  general  we  will  go  down  to  meet 
them." 

"  But,"  contested  the  minority,  "  when  will  the 
Americans  land?  It  may  be  months  yet.  And  then 
Natividad  will  come  up  and  swell  the  garrison  to  sev- 
enty men,  who  cannot  be  overpowered  without  much 
bloodshed  and  perhaps  loss  of  life.  Either  that  or  be 
led  into  the  mountains  like  a  band  of  sheep." 

This  was  an  undeniable  fact,  and  everybody  ad- 
mitted it.  Captain  Hiado  rose  and  expressed  it  as 
his  opinion  that  the  only  manner  in  which  to  bring 
the  scheme  to  a  successful  issue  was  to  communicate 
with  the  Americans  and  seek  their  co-operation. 

"  Let  a  small  party  land  at  Narbacan  and  march  up 
the  pass  at  Tangadan,"  he  continued,  "  and  then,  if 
we  knew  just  when  to  expect  them,  we  could  act  at  our 
end  and  march  down  to  meet  them.    We  must  com- 

299 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

municate  with  the  Americans,  and  if  they  agree  to  co- 
operate with  us,  we  can  all  be  saved  without  the  neces- 
sity of  losing  a  single  life." 

This  proposition  was  seconded  by  all  present.  I 
was  requested  to  obtain  a  letter  from  Lieutenant  Gill- 
more  explaining  the  situation,  and  suggesting  that  a 
company  of  marines  be  landed  at  Narbacan  on  some 
set  date.  A  day  before  they  should  quietly,  under 
cover  of  darkness,  set  the  messenger  ashore,  who 
should  come  up  to  Bangued  to  post  us,  that  we  might 
act  together.  At  the  exact  hour  of  the  landing  of  the 
Americans  we  would  rise,  take  the  garrison,  and 
march  down  to  meet  them.  The  Spaniards  agreed 
to  find  either  a  native  or  a  cazador  to  act  as  mes- 
senger. 

Early  the  next  morning  I  saw  Gillmore,  and  he 
agreed  to  write  the  required  letter.  This  he  really 
did,  giving  it  to  me,  and  I  in  turn  delivered  it  to  Lieu- 
tenant Bustos. 

Evening  came  and  again  we  assembled  in  the  hos- 
pital. As  yet  nobody  had  been  found  willing  to  un- 
dertake the  mission  of  reaching  the  American  vessels, 
but  Lieutenant  Bustos  knew  of  a  young  corporal  in  a 
neighboring  town,  who  he  felt  would  be  the  right  man, 
and  on  the  morrow  he  would  send  for  him.  The  gen- 
eral features  of  the  plan  were  again  discussed,  and 
now  a  cross,  grumpy  old  pessimist  arose  and  declared 
that  he  didn't  believe  the  Americans  would  trouble 
their  heads  with  any  attempt  to  rescue  us.  "  The  past 
proves  it,"  he  continued.  "  Even  if  our  messenger 
succeeds  in  reaching  the  American  ships,  he  will  not 
be  believed,  not  even  with  a  letter  from  Lieutenant 
Gillmore.    Did  not  twenty  Spaniards  escape  from  Can- 

300 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

don  but  three  months  since,  and  what  was  the  result? 
Nothing.  Not  a  month  has  passed  but  what  they  have 
had  some  news  of  our  situation,  and  even  while  we  were 
down  in  Vigan,  on  the  sea-shore,  our  arms  stretched 
out  to  them  for  help,  what  was  done?  With  their 
spy-glasses  they  could  observe  us  on  the  roads  and 
beach,  and  with  two  boat-loads  of  marines  they  could 
have  saved  us — but  no:  we  were  not  worth  it!  Se- 
fiores,  if  the  Americans  would  send  us  help,  they  could 
have  done  so  long  ago,  and  I,  for  one,  do  not  expect 
any  aid  from  them  now." 

I  could  see  that  this  harangue,  uttered  with  bitter 
intensity,  made  quite  an  impression,  and  for  some  time 
no  one  spoke. 

"  Truly,"  ventured  one  at  length,  "  our  friend,  the 
captain,  speaks  words  of  reason.  The  Americans  will 
never  trust  a  Spaniard  sufficiently  to  act  upon  any 
information  he  may  bring." 

By  the  manner  in  which  they  all  glanced  at  me,  I 
plainly  felt  that  they  expected  me  to  make  some  an- 
swer to  these  reflections  they  were  casting  on  my  coun- 
trymen, but,  to  save  my  life,  I  knew  not  what  to  say; 
nothing  that  the  old  gruff  captain  had  stated  could  be 
denied. 

"  I  admit,"  I  at  last  replied,  "  that  the  Americans 
may  not  place  implicit  faith  in  the  word  of  any  stray 
Spaniard,  nor  can  they  properly  be  blamed  for  that, 
but  I  am  willing  myself  to  accompany  any  one  of  your 
men  that  may  know  the  country  well  enough  to  act 
as  guide,  and  I  am  sure  that  if  we  reach  the  American 
ships,  my  countrymen  will  do  anything  to  co-operate 
with  you." 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  several  at  once.  "  You  are  too 
301 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

well  known  in  Vigan,  and  would  not  even  be  taken 
for  a  Spaniard.    It  is  impossible !  " 

"  Hold,"  exclaimed  Bustos,  "  this  can  all  be  ar- 
ranged. I  have  a  friend  in  Vigan,  where  they  may 
hide  during  the  day.  In  one  night  they  can  reach 
Vigan,  and  during  the  day  following  find  shelter  in 
the  house  of  Serior  Baldolomar.  He  will  also  give 
them  all  necessary  information  regarding  boats,  which 
will  not  be  so  difficult,  since  the  beach  is  now  prac- 
tically unguarded." 

When  we  separated  that  night  it  was  fully  decided 
that  I  should  be  one  of  the  messengers,  but  for  me  to 
go  alone  was  out  of  the  question,  since  I  knew  neither 
the  country  nor  the  language  well  enough  to  pass  for 
a  Spaniard.  Any  intelligent  person  would  have  de- 
tected my  foreign  accent  in  speaking  at  once,  so  for 
several  good  reasons  there  must  be  at  least  two  or 
even  three  of  us.  But  the  Spaniards  would  see  to  the 
finding  of  my  companions. 

That  night  Captain  Hiado  and  I  lay  talking  until 
late,  on  the  prospects  of  my  success.  He  took  a  hope- 
ful view  of  the  whole  afifair,  and  had  great  expecta- 
tions of  a  satisfactory  finish. 

Next  morning  saw  me  in  the  prison  immediately 
after  opening  of  doors,  when  I  informed  Gillmore  of 
the  new  plan,  in  which  I  was  to  take  so  important  a 
part.  "  No,  no,"  he  cried  at  once,  "  I  will  never  give 
my  consent  to  that.  Your  chances  would  not  be  one 
out  of  twenty.    I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

During  the  forenoon  Bustos  and  his  friends  made 
all  possible  efforts  to  find  a  suitable  companion  for  me, 
but  without  success.  I  myself  saw  no  less  than  ten 
cazadores  called  into  our  room,  and  there  Bustos  or 

302 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

Captain  Hiado  stated  the  proposition  to  them.  Some 
agreed,  and  went  out  to  arrange  their  clothes,  they 
said,  but  never  returned.  Others  turned  pale  and 
stammered  excuses:  they  did  not  know  the  road,  or 
they  were  sick,  etc.  By  noon  still  no  one  had  been 
found.  Captain  Hiado  and  Bustos  were  plainly 
ashamed,  and  attempted  to  explain  that  eighteen 
months  of  hunger  and  imprisonment  had  taken  all  the 
spirit  out  of  the  poor  fellows;  but  I  doubted  it  had 
ever  been  there. 

When  I  returned  to  the  prison  for  the  mid-day  meal. 
Lieutenant  Gillmore  requested  me  to  come  for  a  walk 
with  him  after  eating,  as  he  had  something  to  say  to 
me.  Our  dinner  was  soon  finished,  and  then  the  lieu- 
tenant and  I  walked  out  under  the  shade  of  the  trees 
in  the  plaza. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  over  your  proposition,"  he 
commenced,  "  and  have  a  scheme  to  submit  to  you. 
Should  you  escape,  you  would  soon  be  missed,  and  we 
should  at  once  lose  the  few  privileges  we  have.  Now, 
it  is  well  known  that  you  often  go  down  to  the  river 
to  swim,  and  I  propose  that  when  you  escape  you 
leave  a  suit  of  your  clothes  on  the  bank  to  give  the 
impression  that  you  are  drowned.  Before  you  leave 
tell  everybody  that  you  are  about  to  go  down  for  a 
swim." 

I  sanctioned  his  idea  at  once,  especially  as  a  young 
Spanish  officer  had  been  drowned  but  a  week  before. 
In  this  manner  my  comrades  would  not  be  compro- 
mised, and  even  I  might  be  safer  from  recapture. 
Lieutenant  Gillmore  then  agreed  to  write  a  short  mes- 
sage to  Admiral  Dewey,  whom  we  thought  still  in 
command  of  the  Asiatic  Station. 

303 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

When  evening  came,  Bustos  and  his  compatriots 
had  not  yet  met  with  any  success.  During  the  day 
they  had  interviewed  not  less  than  fifteen  cazadores, 
but  neither  promises  of  reward  nor  promotion  could 
tempt  them. 

On  the  following  morning  I  met  in  the  plaza  a 
young  Spaniard  who  had  just  come  up  from  Vigan. 
He  was  a  mere  boy  of  nineteen,  but  I  remembered 
him  as  one  of  the  "  practicantes  "  from  the  lower  ward 
in  the  hospital,  implicated  in  the  plot  to  escape  with 
Perez  on  the  occasion  when  their  provisions  were 
seized  and  they  were  fired  upon.  Immediately  I 
thought:  "  Here  is  my  man;  he  will  not  refuse."  Pre- 
ferring that  Lieutenant  Bustos  should  broach  the  sub- 
ject to  him,  as  the  former's  rank  would  give  his  words 
more  weight,  I  pointed  Guillermo  out  to  him,  and  he 
sent  for  the  latter  at  once.  He  was  brought  into  the 
little  room  where  Hiado  and  I  slept,  and  there  the  two 
of^cers  at  once  explained  the  situation  to  him.  As 
they  spoke  in  whispers  I  could  not  hear  a  word  of  the 
conversation,  although  I  lay  on  my  bed,  but  suddenly 
Bustos  turned  and  swept  by  me  with  an  expression 
of  disgust  on  his  face.  "  No  quiere,"  he  simply  said, 
as  he  passed  me.  Hiado  also  left  the  room,  leaving 
me  alone  with  Guillermo,  who  stood  looking  rather 
sheepishly  at  me,  but,  with  a  look  of  contempt  on  my 
face,  I  turned  over  on  the  bed  with  my  back  toward 
him.  Coming  over  closer  to  me  he  commenced: 
"  What  the  captain  proposes  is  impossible — "  but  here 
I  interrupted  him.  "  Guillermo,  over  in  the  prison 
are  thirteen  Americans.  Of  them  I  am  quite  certain 
that  not  one  would  refuse  to  accompany  me,  did  he 
know  the  country  and  the  people  as  you  do.    In  this 

304 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

town  are  i,cx)o  Spaniards,  who  know  the  language, 
customs,  and  nature  of  the  country.  Of  that  thousand 
not  one  will  go,  not  even  to  save  his  countrymen  from 
further  misery  and  possible  death." 

I  had  made  this  little  speech  as  flowery  and  eloquent 
as  my  Spanish  would  permit,  and  it  produced  just  the 
effect  I  desired.  Guillermo's  sunken  yellow  cheeks 
burned  crimson  and  his  eyes  flashed.  "  I  will  go 
where  any  American  will  go,"  he  cried.  "  Call  in  Cap- 
tain Hiado  again;  I  will  go.  I  know  the  road,  and  I 
am  not  afraid." 

Soon  I  had  the  old  captain  and  Lieutenant  Bustos 
in  the  room  again,  and  they  made  all  necessary  ar- 
rangements. At  length  Guillermo  even  grew  enthu- 
siastic. He  promised  to  find  another  companion,  and 
then  left  us  to  search  for  him. 

Early  the  following  morning,  November  17th, 
Guillermo  appeared  in  the  hospital  with  a  companion, 
a  sergeant  of  cazadores.  This  latter  knew  the  coun- 
try well,  having  formerly  been  garrisoned  in  Vigan. 
I  liked  his  appearance  at  first  sight;  he  was  a  dark, 
handsome  fellow  of  about  thirty  -  two  years,  im- 
pressed one  as  a  man  of  some  nerve,  and  was  evident- 
ly in  prime  physical  condition.  He  called  himself 
Pedro. 

It  was  decided  to  leave  that  same  night,  so  we  agreed 
to  meet  in  a  neighboring  canteen  at  five  that  evening. 
This  being  fully  understood,  we  separated.  During 
the  day  I  made  all  preparations,  taking  Bruce,  Ed- 
wards, and  Petersen  into  my  confidence.  The  latter, 
having  been  signal-boy  on  the  Yorktown,  was  thor- 
oughly conversant  with  the  cipher  code,  and  Gillmore 
having  written  the  message  which  was  to  accompany 

305 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

me,  it  was  by  Petersen  translated  into  cipher.     It 
read: 

"  Abra,  November  17,  1899. 
"  To  the  Senior  Naval  Officer: 

"  The  bearer,  Albert  Sonnichsen,  has  been  a  pris- 
oner of  war  with  me  these  last  seven  months,  and  has 
volunteered  to  make  our  ships.  You  can  have  perfect 
confidence  in  what  he  says. 

(Signed)         "  Gillmore." 

Except  for  Gillmore,  Petersen,  Bruce,  and  Edwards 
(O'Brien  having  once  more  been  sent  back  to  Do- 
lores) I  did  not  dare  to  confide  in  my  comrades,  since 
they  were  on  too  intimate  terms  with  Arnold,  and 
an  inadvertent  word  uttered  unconsciously  might 
have  given  him  a  hint.  Since  the  latest  rumors  of 
the  renewal  of  American  activities  he  had  voluntarily 
removed  to  the  jail,  where. he  lived  with  the  Ameri- 
cans, he  and  a  few  boon  companions  rarely  sober. 
He  now  claimed  to  be  an  American  citizen  of  St. 
Paul,  Minn.,  and  was  even  heard  to  declare  that  he 
was  born  there.  Yet  I  knew  that  from  pure  hatred 
he  would  betray  me  did  he  have  an  opportunity,  and 
for  this  reason  I  dared  not  confide  in  those  who  were 
on  confidential  terms  with  him.  He  had  tried  hard 
to  reconcile  Bruce  and  O'Brien  with  himself  by  offer- 
ing them  presents  of  cigars,  vino,  and  even  money, 
but  these  two  of  our  old  Malolos  crowd  had  repulsed 
all  his  advances  beyond  being  on  mere  speaking  terms. 

That  morning,  realizing  that  I  was  delivering  the 
last  lesson  to  my  class,  I  left  heavy  of  heart,  for  I  had 
grown  to  like  the  children.  I  told  Don  Isidro  that 
I  would  be  late  for  the  afternoon  lesson,  as  I  was 

306 


The  Meetings  in  the  Hospital 

going  down  to  the  river  for  a  swim.  I  felt  guilty  in 
thus  deceiving  him,  thinking  of  his  unvarying  kind- 
ness to  me,  but  knowing  him  to  be  a  Government  offi- 
cial I  dared  not  be  frank.  Nevertheless,  as  he  him- 
self admitted  to  me  since,  he  wondered  why  I  shook 
his  hand  at  leaving  that  morning. 

I  also  told  Abasilla  and  all  my  other  native  ac- 
quaintances of  my  prospective  trip  to  the  river,  and 
they,  as  usual,  warned  me  against  the  danger.  If  I 
felt  guilty  on  account  of  the  deception  practised  on 
Don  Isidro,  I  felt  doubly  so  in  parting  with  Abasilla. 
But  I  remembered  his  words:  "I  would  shrug  my 
shoulders  and  say :  '  This  is  not  my  affair.  Good  luck 
to  you!'" 

My  manuscript,  over  two  hundred  pages  of  closely 
written  matter,  I  gave  to  Captain  Hiado  to  take  care 
of  until  we  should  meet  again.  The  old  captain  had 
procured  a  bamboo  cane,  and  after  wrapping  Gill- 
more's  message  up  in  a  piece  of  dried  banana  leaf,  thus 
rendering  it  waterproof,  bored  a  hole  in  one  end  of 
my  cane,  and  slipped  the  roll  into  the  compartment 
between  the  two  joints,  and  once  more  plugged  up  the 
hole.    The  cane  now  contained  the  message. 

Having  been  supplied  with  money  by  the  Spanish 
officers,  I  spent  some  of  this  on  my  last  supper  to- 
gether with  my  three  messmates,  after  which  we  sat 
talking  quietly  in  Gillmore's  room.  Edwards  had 
made  a  small  bundle  of  a  Spanish  uniform  and  a  caza- 
dor's  hat,  and  with  these  he  was  to  accompany  me  out- 
side of  town,  where  I  would  exchange  them  for  the 
clothes  and  hat  I  now  wore.  At  the  river-bank  I 
would  drop  the  latter. 

The  church  bell  struck  five  and  still  I  lingered. 
30^ 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Outside  the  rain  was  pouring  down  in  torrents.  Just 
then  a  shrill  whistle  from  the  plaza  in  front  reminded 
me  that  it  was  time,  when  Guillermo  passed  the  win- 
dow. Bruce  and  Gillmore  reached  out  their  hands 
to  me  and  in  silence  we  parted. 

Coming  outside,  Edwards  and  I  found  Guillermo 
awaiting  us  in  the  plaza.  But  first  I  had  to  bid  Hiado, 
Bustos,  and  their  compatriots  farewell,  and  while 
Guillermo  and  Edwards  remained  below,  I  ascended  to 
the  upper  floor  of  the  hospital,  where  they  all  bid  me 
good-by,  recommending  me  to  the  care  of  God !  The 
very  last  to  grasp  my  hand,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  was 
Lieutenant  Repol,  who  had  suffered  so  severely  in 
Vigan.  "  God  protect  you;  may  you  have  more  suc- 
cess than  I  did,"  were  his  last  words  to  me,  as  I  left 
the  room. 

In  the  canteen  we  found  Pedro  and  two  others,  who 
also  were  to  accompany  us,  two  young  soldiers.  Leav- 
ing Pedro  and  these  two  to  follow  later,  and  meet  us 
outside  of  town,  since  we  feared  it  might  breed  sus- 
picion to  leave  in  a  body,  Guillermo,  Edwards,  and  I 
left  the  town  by  the  road  to  the  landing.  We  were 
well  out  on  the  country  road,  when  Guillermo  said  to 
Edwards :  "  You  must  leave  us  now,  it  may  raise  sus- 
picion to  be  absent  too  long  in  such  a  rain."  Ed- 
wards handed  me  the  bundle,  and,  grasping  him  by 
the  hand,  I  parted  with  my  last  comrade.  He  returned 
to  Bangued,  to  escape  himself  a  month  later,  and, 
together  with  Bruce  and  O'Brien,  served  as  guide  to 
the  rescuing  party  under  Colonel  Hare. 

I  now  felt  that  I  was  a  fugitive. 


308 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
FUGITIVES 

On  the  trail — Swimming  La  Bocana — Arrival  at  Vigan — Senor 

Baldolomar — Discouraged — "  Entre  los  Peligros  hay  Se- 
guridad  " — Catalan — An  impostor — A  night  march — Masin- 
gal — The  boats  on  the  beach — Too  late — In  hiding — The 
bark  of  a  dog — Pursued  by  bolomen — Back  to  Vigan — 
Deserted  by  the  Spaniards — Meeting  an  old  acquaintance  at 
an  awkward  moment — The  sugar-planters'  hut — General  Na- 
tividad's  retreat — Through  the  streets  of  Vigan — Swimming 
the  river — Meeting  with  Perez — "  Alto!  " 

THE  rain  was  pouring  down  as  it  can  only  in 
the  tropics,  soon  transforming  the  road  into 
a  sea  of  mud  and  water,  but  we  two  struggled 
on  for  another  mile,  when  we  crawled  under  a  low  tree 
to  wait  for  Pedro  and  the  other  two.  To  me  it  seemed 
that  we  lay  there  for  an  age,  but  at  last,  above  the 
low  roar  of  the  rain  we  heard  the  splashing  of  ap- 
proaching footsteps,  and  as  three  dark  figures  trudged 
by,  Guillermo  and  I  fell  in  behind.  On  we  pushed 
through  the  blinding  rain,  the  mud,  and  the  darkness, 
at  a  smart  pace,  almost  a  trot,  an  occasional  flash  of 
lightning  rendering  the  landscape  visible  for  an  in- 
stant, and  showing  the  road  before  us,  but  my  com- 
panions evidently  knew  their  way,  for  they  plodded 
steadily  on,  Pedro  leading,  and  I  after  him.  In  half 
an  hour  we  had  reached  a  small  creek,  a  branch  of 
the  river,  and  this  we  prepared  to  ford,  after  my  first 

309 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

undressing,  donning  the  cazador's  suit,  and  leaving 
the  other  on  the  bank.  Just  then  Pedro  uttered  a  loud 
oath.  Looking  around,  I  saw  that  we  now  numbered 
only  four.  One  already  had  deserted,  his  courage  hav- 
ing failed  him. 

Fording  the  creek  we  continued  following  the  road, 
and  presently  found  ourselves  walking  through  the 
street  of  a  town.  This  was  Pidigan,  but  we  soon 
passed  beyond  without  meeting  a  soul.  We  knew  that 
there  was  no  garrison  stationed  here.  After  a  while 
the  road  began  a  rather  sharp  ascent:  we  were  now 
entering  the  mountains.  On,  on  we  continued  at  a 
swinging  trot,  never  stopping  for  even  a  moment. 
We  must  reach  Vigan  before  daybreak.  Overhead  a 
telegraph  wire  commenced  to  wail  dismally,  and  at 
times  I  almost  fancied  I  heard  the  syllables  of  my  own 
name  vibrating  along  those  slender  threads,  but  rea- 
son convinced  me  that  as  yet  I  would  not  have  been 
missed.  Several  times  we  met  prowling  Tinguianes, 
but  they  did  not  molest  us. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  Pedro  halted  abruptly,  and 
the  rest  of  us  gathered  around  him,  knowing  he  had 
something  to  say.  In  a  whisper  he  informed  us  that 
we  were  now  within  a  stone's  throw  of  San  Quintin. 
On  account  of  the  river  on  one  side  and  a  blufif  on  the 
other  we  must  pass  through  the  town.  Six  soldiers 
were  garrisoned  here  to  watch  the  river  and  to  collect 
a  small  toll  on  each  raft  that  passed.  To  avoid  them 
we  must  be  cautious.  Having  warned  us  Pedro  again 
went  on,  slower  and  with  almost  noiseless  steps — ^we 
following  in  single  file.  Just  then  the  moon  came  out 
from  behind  the  clouds,  and  we  saw  the  nipa  roofs 
before  us.    Even  I  knew  the  town  and  recognized  the 

310 


Fugitives 

gloomy  barracks  on  the  brow  of  the  bluff  facing  the 
river,  where  three  months  before  we  American  pris- 
oners had  eaten  rice  and  paw-paw  soup. 

Silently  Pedro  led  the  way  through  the  deserted 
streets,  and  we  as  silently  followed.  We  crept  along 
in  the  shadows  as  much  as  possible,  but  at  times  were 
obliged  to  cross  bright  patches  of  moonlight,  and  my 
heart  stood  almost  still  with  fear,  half  expecting  to 
hear  a  sentry's  "  Alto  1  "  Once  we  heard  a  shrill 
whistle,  the  "  All's  well "  of  the  Insurgent  sentinel. 
Gradually  we  reached  the  opposite  side  of  the  town, 
and  when  once  more  we  plunged  into  the  jungle,  my 
breath  again  came  naturally.  It  would  have  been  such 
a  disgrace  to  be  recaptured  so  soon! 

Once  more  we  pushed  on,  uttering  never  a  word  or 
a  whisper,  following  a  trail  that  a  horse  could  not  have 
passed,  at  times  climbing  impossible-looking  cliffs, 
and  again  descending  into  gorges  by  sliding  down 
creepers.  After  another  three  or  four  hours  of  this 
manner  of  travelling,  we  at  length  saw  "  La  Bocana  " 
opening  up  before  us,  and  felt  the  moaning  currents  of 
air  that  perpetually  float  through  it,  which  the  ig- 
norant natives  call  the  spirits  of  the  pass,  who  flit  in 
and  out.  I  could  hardly  blame  them  for  believing  this, 
for  now  in  the  stillness  of  night  it  certainly  seemed 
as  if  phantom  bodies  flew  by;  the  scene  was  weird  and 
impressive. 

Once  more  we  halted,  and  now  the  question  arose, 
"  How  shall  we  pass  through  La  Bocana? "  But 
Pedro  was  prepared  for  this.  Leading  the  way  into 
a  clump  of  trees  close  to  the  river-bank  we  came  upon 
a  Tinguiane  hut.  Pedro  at  once  called  out  in  the  na- 
tive dialect  in  low,  long-drawn  syllables,  "  Gavino-po- 

311 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

oo-po-oo."  This  he  repeated  several  times,  and  at 
length  an  answer  came  from  within:  "Apo-o-o-o!" 
The  door  opened  and  we  entered,  the  Tinguiane  seated 
on  his  sleeping-mat,  from  which  he  had  just  risen.  He 
and  Pedro  spoke  for  some  time  in  the  Tinguiane  dia- 
lect, which  the  latter  knew  well,  having  been  seven 
years  in  this  part  of  the  country.  At  last  the  native 
rose  and  went  outside,  we  following  him.  Leading 
the  way  he  entered  a  dense  thicket,  and,  with  our  help, 
pulled  out  a  small  bamboo  raft  which  was  there  hid- 
den, and  launched  it  into  the  river.  We  all  embarked, 
and,  with  a  shove  of  a  long  pole,  the  native  sent  the 
raft  gliding  out  into  the  river.  In  ten  minutes  we  had 
crossed  to  the  opposite  bank,  and,  giving  the  Tin- 
guiane a  peso,  we  continued  following  the  trail  along 
the  shore,  but  presently  found  ourselves  confronted 
by  an  impassable  clilT  which  rose  abruptly  from  the 
water.  A  rope  was  here  made  fast  to  a  tree  and  dis- 
appeared into  the  river.  "  No  raft,"  exclaimed  Pedro; 
"  then  we  must  drag  ourselves  through  the  water  to 
the  sand-spit  below  by  means  of  this  rope.  The  raft 
is  at  the  other  end." 

One  by  one  we  entered  the  water,  and,  sHpping  my 
cane  over  my  wrist  by  means  of  a  lanyard,  I  allowed 
the  current  to  carry  me  down  along  the  rope  to  which 
I  clung.  We  made  the  mistake  of  following  one  an- 
other too  closely,  thus  placing  our  united  weight  on 
the  cord  at  once.  Suddenly,  when  we  had  slipped  down 
about  fifty  yards,  I  felt  something  give  way,  and  a 
moment  later  was  struggling  in  the  swirling  eddies  and 
carried  out  in  the  current.  Had  not  my  movements 
been  impeded  by  my  clothing,  I  should  not  have  con- 
sidered the  accident  a  very  serious  one,  but  as  it  was, 

312 


Fugitives 

with  the  cane  fastened  to  my  wrist,  shoes  and  cloth- 
ing became  hindrances  to  swimming.  How  long  my 
struggles  lasted  I  cannot  definitely  say,  but  to  me  it 
seemed  hours,  although  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  in 
reality  less  than  ten  minutes.  Finally  my  feet  struck 
violently  against  a  rock,  and  I  found  myself  being 
swept  over  a  bank.  Desperately  I  clung  to  my  foot- 
hold in  spite  of  the  current,  and  eventually  succeeded 
in  obtaining  a  firm  footing,  enabUng  me  to  crawl  up 
on  the  dry  sand-spit.  Thank  God,  I  was  below  that 
awful  bluff. 

At  first  I  seemed  to  be  alone;  nowhere  could  I  see 
the  Spaniards,  but  soon  they  crawled  up  into  the 
moonlight  from  different  points  along  the  spit;  none 
of  us  having  suffered  more  than  a  few  bruises  and  I 
the  loss  of  my  hat. 

Resting  ten  minutes,  we  pressed  on  again,  for  we 
feared  that  the  break  of  day  would  overtake  us,  and 
Vigan  was  still  three  miles  away.  An  hour  later  we 
entered  the  suburbs,  but  the  sky  was  lightening  to  the 
eastward.  Guillermo  and  Antonio  were  in  favor  of 
retreating  again  and  hiding  in  the  bushes  until  night, 
but  Pedro  advocated  entering  Vigan,  and  obtaining 
shelter  in  the  house  of  Sefior  Baldolomar,  to  whom  we 
bore  a  letter  from  Lieutenant  Bustos.  I  voted  with 
Pedro,  and  we  pushed  on.  Fortunately  we  could  dis- 
cover no  outposts,  and  soon  we  were  passing  through 
some  narrow  deserted  streets  of  Vigan,  Pedro  swing- 
ing in  and  out  of  alleys  and  by-passages  as  if  thor- 
oughly familiar  with  them.  Of  a  sudden  he  came  to 
a  halt,  peering  cautiously  around  a  corner.  "  Take 
care,"  he  whispered  back  to  us;  "  sentries,  follow  me." 
I  observed  we  were  close  to  the  plaza,  and  not  two 

313 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

hundred  yards  distant  stood  the  barracks.  Almost  be- 
fore us,  and  but  fifty  yards  away,  stood  the  home  of 
Baldolomar,  but  to  reach  it  we  should  have  to  cross 
a  patch  of  moonlight,  and  a  sentry  in  front  of  the  bar- 
racks was  pacing  his  post  in  full  sight.  Each  time  he 
turned  he  walked  back  behind  a  wall  for  a  few  seconds, 
but  the  next  turn  exposed  him  to  view  again.  Thus 
did  he  pace  up  and  down,  the  moonlight  glinting  on 
his  gun-barrel,  Pedro  watching  for  his  chance.  Again 
the  sentry  was  behind  the  wall — the  Spaniard  leaped 
across  the  street  and  was  securely  hidden  in  the  gate- 
way of  the  Baldolomar  house.  It  was  now  my  turn, 
and  I  watched  the  sentry.  Up  he  came  again,  turned, 
and  once  more  disappeared,  and  I  dashed  across  the 
open  space,  Guillermo  close  at  my  heels.  Two  min- 
utes later  Antonio  joined  us,  and  the  danger  was 
over. 

Cautiously,  lest  we  should  disturb  the  neighbor- 
hood, we  crept  around  to  the  back  door  and  knocked. 
In  my  hand  I  held  the  letter  Lieutenant  Bustos  had 
given  me,  which,  from  the  rain  and  the  soaking  in  the 
river,  was  little  more  than  pulp.  Twice  we  knocked, 
listening  anxiously  for  some  response.  Presently 
somebody  moved  inside  and  a  masculine  voice  de- 
manded, "  Quien  vive?  "  "  Amigos  de  Bustos,"  an- 
swered Pedro.  The  bolt  inside  was  withdrawn  and  the 
door  opened.  "  Come  in,"  continued  the  voice,  and 
we  entered. 

Inside  all  was  darkness,  but  now  a  match  was  struck, 
a  lamp  lit,  and  our  surroundings  became  visible.  We 
were  in  a  small  room,  containing  a  bed,  table,  dresser, 
and  a  few  chairs.  An  elderly  Spaniard  in  white  paja- 
mas stood  before  us,  also  a  woman,  a  mestiza,  with  a 

314 


Fugitives 

child  in  her  arms.  This  man  was  evidently  Baldolomar 
himself,  and  to  him  I  gave  the  letter.  He  opened  it 
and  apparently  succeeded  in  making  out  its  contents, 
for,  reaching  out  his  hand,  he  said :  "  You  are  wel- 
come as  friends  of  Lieutenant  Bustos." 

Our  host,  being  a  civilian  and  merchant,  was  not  a 
prisoner,  but  lived  in  this  small  house  with  his  family. 
His  wife,  although  partly  native,  was  even  lighter  of 
complexion  than  her  husband.  Such  a  kind  and  moth- 
erly face — we  could  feel  perfectly  safe  as  far  as  she 
was  concerned.  The  child  in  her  arms  was  her  two- 
year-old  son,  a  little  tot  with  light,  golden  curls  and 
big  blue  eyes — yet  a  Filipino. 

When  we  had  fully  explained  our  plans  and  hopes 
to  our  host,  he  gravely  shook  his  head.  The  beach 
was  still  strictly  guarded  by  a  cordon  of  bolomen, 
and  no  Spaniard  allowed  to  approach  within  a  mile. 
Of  the  Spaniards,  only  the  sick  in  the  hospital  re- 
mained; the  rest  were  all  gone.  Nevertheless,  he  said 
he  would  render  us  any  assistance  in  his  power. 

The  house  was  small,  in  fact  consisted  of  but  two 
rooms,  and  into  one  of  these  a  native  servant  showed 
U6.  Poor,  indeed,  is  the  family  in  the  Philippines,  that 
cannot  afiford  a  servant.  Mats  were  spread,  and  on 
these  we  laid  ourselves  down,  our  clothes  wringing 
wet.  We  had  arrived  just  in  time,  for  outside  it  was 
dawning,  and  the  melodious  notes  of  reveille  came 
floating  in  from  the  plaza.    We  soon  fell  asleep. 

When  again  I  awoke,  the  sun  was  shining  in 
through  an  open  window.  I  arose,  and,  through  the 
boughs  of  a  tree,  could  overlook  the  greater  portion 
of  the  plaza,  the  barracks,  the  familiar  hospital  build- 
ing, and  the  soldiers  at  their  morning  drill.     It  was 

315 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

a  beautiful  calm  morning,  nothing  but  the  blasts  from 
the  bugle  breaking  the  stillness.  I  watched  those  rows 
of  brown  soldiers  and  thought  how  quickly  they  would 
have  come  for  me  had  they  observed  me  as  I  did  them. 
But  the  tree  screened  me  from  their  view. 

Baldolomar  called  us  in  for  breakfast,  and  while  we 
ate  told  us  what  news  he  had. 

No  American  vessel  had  been  seen  of¥  the  coast  for 
over  a  week.  General  Natividad,  the  cripple  (el  cojo) 
as  he  was  familiarly  called,  was  now  in  command  of 
the  garrison,  which,  together  with  six  men  in  San 
Quintin,  ten  in  Santa,  and  five  in  Bantay,  all  neigh- 
boring towns,  numbered  less  than  sixty.  The  Ameri- 
cans were  supposed  to  have  landed  at  San  Fernando 
and  cut  off  the  retreat  of  Aguinaldo,  who  was  at 
Tarlac. 

All  this  was  not  particularly  encouraging,  but  we 
hoped  to  find  a  boat,  and  if  we  could  not  meet  a  war- 
vessel,  we  might  sail  down  to  San  Fernando  with  a 
fair  wind,  the  northeast  monsoons  being  now  preva- 
lent. Once  more  we  sought  rest  in  sleep,  for,  being 
on  the  move  the  entire  night  before,  and  knowing  that 
the  coming  night  would  be  the  same,  we  needed  all 
the  rest  we  possibly  could  obtain. 

Judging  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  it  must  have  been 
about  noon  when  a  murmur  of  voices  from  the  next 
room  awoke  us,  but  with  relief  I  recognized  them  as 
those  of  Spaniards,  not  Filipinos.  Natives  could  never 
have  commanded  such  bass  growls  as  I  now  heard. 
Shortly  afterward  Baldolomar  called  us  in,  and  we  en- 
tered. Around  the  table  were  seated  three  Spaniards, 
also  civilians  and  residents  of  Vigan.  One  I  knew  to 
be  a  certain  Dr.  Martinez,  a  Spanish  physician,  having 

316 


Fugitives 

occasionally  seen  him  in  the  hospital.  The  other  two 
were  merchants.  They  had  come  to  dine  with  our 
host,  and  he,  in  anticipation  of  receiving  advice  or 
even  assistance,  had  confided  our  case  to  them,  and 
even  as  we  made  our  appearance  was  yet  explaining 
our  plans  and  what  we  hoped  to  accomplish  by  reach- 
ing the  American  vessels.  Long  before  he  could  fin- 
ish they  jumped  up  from  the  table,  knocking  a  chair 
or  two  over,  and  pranced  about  the  room  as  if  the  floor 
was  growing  hot,  pawing  the  air  and  acting  in  gen- 
eral like  men  whose  excitement  had  mastered  their 
reason.  What  we  wished  to  do  was  impossible.  "  Im- 
possible, impossible,"  they  cried  in  chorus.  We  had 
come  down  only  to  compromise  them.  They  would 
be  blamed  and  punished  as  our  accompHces.  No — 
no,  we  must  return  to  Bangued,  give  ourselves  up, 
etc.  I  was  disgusted  with  their  egotism  and  felt 
sorry  that  our  host  had  confided  in  them,  and  now 
feared  that  they  might  betray  us,  but,  demonstrative 
as  they  were  with  their  words  and  gestures,  we  really 
had  less  reason  to  fear  them  than  such  quiet,  under- 
hand hypocrites  as  Arnold. 

Soon  afterward  they  took  their  departure — they  had 
certainly  done  their  best  to  discourage  us.  Baldolomar 
smiled — the  scene  had  amused  him,  but  not  me,  for  as 
I  glanced  at  the  faces  of  Guillermo  and  Antonio  I  saw 
they  bore  expressions  of  deep  alarm  and  fear.  Pedro 
alone  seemed  unimpressed. 

After  dinner  we  returned  to  the  other  room  and 
seated  ourselves  on  the  mats,  our  backs  against  the 
wall,  and  for  some  time  nobody  ventured  a  syllable. 
At  length  Antonio  repeated  the  one  word,  "  Impos- 
sible."   "  Impossible!  "  echoed  Guillermo.    Pedro  was 

317 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

lost  in  reflection  and  stared  vacantly  at  the  opposite 
wall. 

Now,  to  return  to  Bangued  would  have  meant  noth- 
ing more  than  the  walk  there  to  my  companions,  as 
they  in  all  probability  never  would  have  been  missed; 
but  to  me  such  a  proposition  had  a  different  meaning. 
The  Provincial  Governor  was  known  to  be  no  friend 
of  the  white  race,  and,  should  I  return,  I  should  un- 
doubtedly fall  into  his  hands.  Although  I  knew  that 
such  friends  as  Paredes,  Abasilla,  and  Comandante 
Peiia  would  never  allow  me  to  be  so  seriously  dealt 
with  as  was  Lieutenant  Repol,  they  could  not  prevent 
the  Governor  from  placing  me  in  close  and  possibly 
solitary  confinement,  thus  destroying  my  last  hopes 
of  escape.  Now  I  was  free,  comparatively  speaking, 
and  I  meant  to  be  harder  pressed  than  we  were  now 
before  giving  myself  up.  How  my  comrades  would 
have  laughed  at  seeing  me  come  voluntarily  slinking 
back  after  an  attempt  at  escape  with  no  success — like 
a  runaway  school-boy,  coming  home  to  be  good  again. 
I  felt  sorry,  however,  that  I  had  not  delayed  my  vent- 
ure somewhat  longer  and  secured  two  more  such  com- 
panions as  Pedro,  instead  of  the  two  boys,  Guillermo 
and  Antonio. 

All  my  attempts  at  the  task  of  convincing  these  two 
that  we  had  good  reason  to  expect  success  proved 
futile  for  a  while.  They  wept  like  children,  and  insisted 
on  returning  to  Bangued.  Pedro  himself  seemed  not 
too  favorably  inclined  toward  continuing  the  expedi- 
tion, but  evidently  his  pride  prevented  him  from  ac- 
knowledging the  fact.  I  felt  that  he  would  be  ashamed 
to  leave  me. 

While  arguing  with  the  other  two,  I  had  been  tum- 
318 


Fugitives 

ing  the  leaves  of  a  small  school-book,  which  had  been 
lying  on  the  floor — a  book  for  children  learning  to 
read,  issued  by  the  friars.  It  was  entitled  "  Historia  Sa- 
grada,"  giving  short,  simple  lessons  in  Bible  history. 
While  speaking,  my  glance  happened  to  fall  onto  the 
book,  and  in  conspicuous  type  I  read  at  the  top  of  a 
page  the  title  of  one  of  the  lessons:  "  Entre  los 
Peligros  hay  Seguridad  "  (Amidst  Dangers  lies  Se- 
curity). Holding  up  the  book  I  exclaimed:  "  Com- 
rades, even  God  counsels  us — we  must  pass  through 
these  dangers  to  reach  true  security."  These  words, 
which  almost  seemed  to  have  appeared  in  the  Sacred 
Book  especially  to  hold  out  my  argument,  made  a  deep 
impression,  I  could  see.  I  felt  that  I  had  gained  my 
point. 

It  was  decided  that  Pedro  should  go  out  in  the  town 
after  dusk  and  buy  provisions,  a  rope,  and  a  mat  (to 
serve  for  cordage  and  sail),  a  clasp-knife,  and  several 
other  small  but  necessary  articles,  as  also  to  obtain  any 
information  possible.  By  bandaging  his  head  he  ran 
small  risk  of  capture;  he  would  be  taken  for  a  patient 
from  the  hospital. 

At  about  six  he  left  us,  apparently  hardly  able  to 
walk.  An  hour  passed  slowly  away,  but  still  Pedro  did 
not  return.  The  church  bell  chimed  half-past  seven, 
still  he  was  absent.  I  was  beginning  to  grow  exceed- 
ingly nervous,  when  at  last,  shortly  before  eight,  he 
appeared,  and,  by  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
I  saw  that  he  had  good  news.  He  told  us  he  had 
met  an  old  friend,  a  nurse  in  the  hospital,  who  volun- 
teered to  guide  us  to  a  place  up  the  coast  where  there 
were  boats  in  plenty  and  where  the  beach  was  not 
patrolled.    We  must  leave  the  house  at  once  and  join 

319 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

our  new  companion  at  another  place,  for  the  soldiers 
had  seen  Pedro  enter,  and  their  suspicions  might  have 
been  aroused.  Should  the  house  be  searched  we  would 
be  arrested  and  our  kind  host  compromised,  so,  bid- 
ding him  and  his  wife  good-by,  and  thanking  them 
for  their  hospitality,  doubly  to  be  appreciated  on  ac- 
count of  the  conditions  under  which  it  had  been  ex- 
tended to  us,  we  went  out  into  the  yard  and  scaled 
the  back  wall.  We  now  walked  boldly  down  to  the 
main  street,  Pedro  and  I  hatless  and  with  bandaged 
heads,  the  other  two  limping.  As  it  was  not  yet  eight 
o'clock,  we  passed  a  sentry  unchallenged,  who  said  no 
more  to  us  than,  "  Sigue,  Castile." 

We  soon  reached  our  destination,  which  was  really 
close  to  Baldolomar's  house,  and  on  the  plaza,  but  we 
had  taken  a  roundabout  route  so  that  we  might  not 
be  seen  leaving  his  premises.  We  entered  a  large,  half- 
ruined  stone  building,  and  at  once  ascended  to  an 
upper  floor  where  a  number  of  natives  and  one  Span- 
iard were  seated  in  a  large  room,  conversing.  Having 
been  in  Vigan  for  three  months,  I  ran  some  risk  of 
being  recognized,  so  I  had  also  tied  a  handkerchief 
about  my  jaw  as  though  suffering  from  toothache. 
The  native  who  received  us  was  a  well-to-do,  kindly 
disposed  old  fellow,  an  old  friend  of  Pedro's;  in  fact 
it  was  here,  with  him,  that  the  latter  had  formerly 
been  lodged. 

He  explained  to  him  now  that  he  had  come  down 
from  Bangued  with  a  pass  from  the  Civil  Governor  for 
the  purpose  of  purchasing  cloth  for  the  Spanish  offi- 
cers, which  in  Abra  costs  doubly  as  much  as  in  Vigan. 
As  this  was  not  an  unusual  proceeding  since  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  money  sent  by  the  Spanish  Govem- 

320 


Fugitives 

ment,  the  simple  native  had  offered  him  and  his  friends 
the  hospitality  of  his  house  for  the  few  days  of  our 
prospective  stay.  Pedro  introduced  the  rest  of  us  as 
"  assistentes  "  of  other  officers  on  similar  errands. 

Our  new  companion,  being  a  hospital  nurse,  was 
allowed  the  privilege  of  sleeping  outside  when  off  duty, 
and  lodged  with  this  native.  He  and  Pedro  were  old 
friends  and  companions  in  arms.  The  others  familiarly 
called  him  Catalan,  meaning  a  native  of  the  north- 
eastern province  of  Spain,  Catalonia.  The  moment 
I  entered  he  came  forward  and  exclaimed,  "  Ola, 
paisano!"  (Hello,  countryman!)  Turning  to  the  Fili- 
pinos he  explained  that  I  also  was  a  Catalan,  which 
was  a  pretty  clever  stroke,  since  that  would  account 
for  my  accent  in  the  language,  the  Catalonians  having 
a  manner  of  pronouncing  their  words  similar  to  my 
peculiar  accent.    So  I  posed  as  a  Catalonian. 

I  was  supposed  to  be  very  ill,  but  carried  the  decep- 
tion a  trifle  too  far,  for  our  host  became  sympathetic 
and  commenced  to  condole  with  me,  and  I,  of  course, 
was  obliged  to  reply.  "  Catalan  is  very  sick,"  said 
Pedro;  "  don't  speak  to  him."  But  when  our  host  in 
accents  of  heartfelt  sympathy  ordered  a  servant  to 
bathe  my  head  in  cold  water,  I  came  near  betraying 
myself.  Pedro  again  came  to  the  rescue  and  remarked 
that  I  also  suffered  from  hysterics. 

At  length  supper  was  served,  and  the  old  native  in- 
sisted on  my  coming  to  the  table  to  eat.  I  was  ex- 
tremely hungry,  and  the  fried  sausages  tempted  me 
sorely,  so,  together  with  our  host  and  the  four  Span- 
iards, I  seated  myself.  My  appetite  did  not  agree 
with  my  apparently  delicate  condition,  and  in  spite 
of  their  fears  that  I  might  be  discovered,  the  Spaniards 

321 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

could  with  difficulty  restrain  their  merriment  at  the 
manner  in  which  I  helped  the  victuals  to  disappear. 
Fortunately  our  host  was  so  absorbed  in  a  political 
discussion  that  he  failed  to  notice  me.  For  half  an 
hour  I  was  obliged  to  listen  to  this  man  (he  chanced 
to  be  a  Tagalog)  denouncing  my  countrymen  as  op- 
pressors, tyrants,  assassins  of  liberty,  etc.,  and  to  keep 
up  appearances  by  replying  with  "  Si "  to  all  he  said. 
The  Spaniards  were  about  choking  with  laughter  and 
kicked  my  legs  under  the  table,  but  suddenly  the  Fili- 
pino turned  to  me  and  remarked:  "You  are  very 
light  for  a  Spaniard;  you  might  almost  be  taken  for 
an  American."  I  explained  to  him  that  all  Catalonians 
were  lighter  than  the  majority  of  Spaniards,  and  this 
seemed  to  satisfy  him,  but  it  was  a  warning  to  be  more 
careful.  Complaining  of  a  violent  headache,  I  asked 
to  be  shown  to  our  quarters,  and  shortly  afterward  was 
lying  down  on  a  mat  in  another  room,  separated  from 
the  main  part  of  the  building,  an  outhouse  in  fact. 
Half  an  hour  later  the  rest  joined  me,  and  then  Pedro 
explained  our  next  move. 

The  guide,  his  friend,  was  well  posted  on  the  coun- 
try in  general,  and  knew  of  a  small  village  fourteen 
kilometres  up  the  coast,  a  place  called  Masingal,  where 
the  beach  was  entirely  unguarded,  and  boats  were 
numerous.  We  had  all  necessary  provisions,  ropes, 
mats,  etc.,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  we  would  quietly  slip 
out  and  strike  for  the  north.  Needless  to  say,  I  had 
no  criticism  to  make  on  this  plan.  I  could  suggest 
none  better. 

The  church  bell  had  just  struck  eleven  when  we 
arose,  and,  each  of  us  taking  a  small  bundle,  we  silently 
stole  out  on  the  now  deserted  streets.    By  making  a 

322 


Fugitives 

circuit  of  the  whole  town  we  avoided  the  dreaded  sen- 
tries, for  Catalan  knew  where  each  one  was  stationed, 
and  at  length  found  ourselves  on  the  bank  of  a  small 
branch  of  the  Abra  River  on  the  north  side  of  Vigan. 
The  town  is  situated  on  a  delta  land,  this  branch 
practically  making  Vigan  and  its  suburbs  an  island. 
This  was  easily  forded,  and,  leading  the  way,  Catalan 
trudged  on,  we  following.  Cautiously  and  silently  we 
crept  around  the  town  of  Bantay,  within  a  mile  of 
Vigan,  altogether  a  separate  municipality,  but  our 
guide  knew  every  inch  of  the  country,  and  successfully 
avoided  barracks  and  police  quarters. 

About  midnight  we  passed  through  a  group  of 
houses  which  on  the  map  is  called  San  Ildefonso,  and 
at  about  one  the  larger  town  of  Santo  Domingo.  It 
was  raining  and  we  met  nobody  on  the  lonely  and 
quite  deserted  road.  Two  hours  later  we  entered  an- 
other town.  This  was  Masingal,  but  we  had  yet  an- 
other mile  or  so  to  reach  the  sea-shore  beyond.  Al- 
ready I  could  hear  the  breakers  booming,  and  shortly 
afterward  we  crept  out  on  the  beach  at  the  mouth  of 
a  small  river.  The  moon  came  feebly  out,  and  by  its 
light  we  saw  two  large  boats  high  and  dry  on  the  sand. 
We  were  in  a  small  cove,  and  the  launching  would  not 
be  difficult.  My  heart  beat  loudly  as  we  cautiously 
approached  those  two  black  shadows,  for  now  it 
seemed  almost  as  if  liberty  was  really  within  our  grasp. 
How  must  my  companions  have  felt,  who  were  well 
into  their  second  year  of  imprisonment!  Guillermo 
was  sobbing  from  nervous  excitement. 

We  could  not  have  been  more  than  fifty  yards  away 
from  the  boats  when  a  bright  light  flared  up  before 
us,  and  we  saw  a  number  of  dark  figures  approaching 

323 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

from  an  opposite  direction.  We  were  too  late,  the 
fishermen  were  about  to  launch  their  boats  for  the 
day's  fishing.  They  numbered  a  score  or  more,  and 
with  a  bitter  feeling  of  disappointment  we  beat  a  hasty 
retreat.  We  must  cross  the  river,  Catalan  said;  on  the 
other  side  were  more  boats  and  we  might  be  in  time 
to  secure  one.  The  river  was  too  deep  to  ford,  so  we 
made  preparations  to  swim.  As  the  distance  across 
was  at  least  half  a  mile,  we  were  compelled  to  leave 
our  shoes  behind.  In  fifteen  minutes  we  crawled  up 
on  the  opposite  bank  and  commenced  an  exploration 
of  the  beach  on  that  side,  but  nowhere  could  we  see 
a  boat;  if  there  had  been  any,  they  were  already 
launched.  In  the  east  the  sky  was  now  very  much 
lighter,  and,  realizing  that  it  would  no  longer  be  safe 
to  be  abroad,  we  began  searching  for  shelter  in  the 
jungle.  We  at  length  found  a  nook  in  a  thick  growth 
of  underbrush  close  by  the  beach,  and  into  this  we 
crawled  to  spend  the  day  in  hiding.  It  rained  con- 
tinually, and  there  we  lay  shivering,  unable  to  shelter 
ourselves  from  a  cold  northerly  drizzle  that  seemed  to 
soak  us  to  the  very  marrow.  Here  I  learned  many 
new  words  of  profanity  in  Spanish,  for  my  compan- 
ions seemed  to  be  reviewing  their  entire  vocabulary 
in  that  direction. 

Toward  noon  the  sun  came  out  and  shone  down  on 
us  through  a  break  in  the  foliage,  brightening  our 
hopes,  and  seemingly  infusing  new  vitality  into  our 
drooping  spirits.  The  sea,  too,  was  growing  calmer, 
and  we  expected  no  difficulty  in  launching  a  boat  that 
night,  nor  yet  in  finding  one. 

It  must  have  been  about  two  o'clock — we  were  try- 
ing to  snatch  a  few  winks  of  sleep — when  in  the  dis- 

324 


Fugitives 

tance  we  heard  a  dog  barking.  At  first  we  paid  no 
attention  to  this,  but  as  the  bark  kept  approaching 
we  sat  up,  becoming  uneasy.  After  some  exciting 
moments  the  cur  brought  up  in  the  thicket,  within  a 
few  yards  of  us,  and  there  he  stayed  yapping  continu- 
ously. We  tried  to  dislodge  the  brute,  but  with  no 
success;  he  simply  remained  there,  invisible  but  close 
by,  the  jungle  ringing  with  his  bark.  We  now  dis- 
tinguished the  excited  voices  of  men,  and  unanimously 
decided  that  it  was  about  time  to  move  on.  Squirm- 
ing through  the  underbrush,  we  reached  the  sandy 
beach,  and  at  once  commenced  to  run.  We  heard  a 
shout  behind  us,  and  saw  emerging  from  the  bushes 
half  a  dozen  natives,  all  with  their  bolos.  We  were 
commanded  to  halt,  but  instead  of  obeying  the  sum- 
mons, continued  retreating  with  more  speed  than  dig- 
nity. They  had  now  cut  us  off  from  the  jungle,  and 
before  us  lay  a  clear  stretch  of  rice-field  at  least  two 
miles  broad,  but  on  the  other  side  of  this  the  bamboos 
and  trees  again  promised  a  welcome  and  needed  shel- 
ter, and  with  the  object  of  reaching  this  in  time  we 
sped  on  across  the  rice-paddies.  The  bolomen  con- 
tinued their  pursuit,  though  to  all  appearances  their 
little  yelping  cur  had  given  out.  They  apparently  had 
not  gained  upon  us,  but  their  numbers  had  evidently 
increased.  Men  sprang  up  in  the  field,  and  with  their 
ready  bolos,  but  a  minute  before  engaged  in  reaping 
rice,  joined  our  pursuers.  We  were  now  fast  nearing 
the  far  edge  of  the  clearing,  and  so  certain  of  gaining 
shelter  that  we  even  slackened  our  speed  the  least  trifle, 
when,  just  as  we  crashed  in  under  the  lofty  trees,  two  of 
these  peaceful  reapers  cut  in  ahead  of  us,  and  with 
gleaming  bolos  appeared  just  before  us  in  our  path. 

325 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

They  were  but  two,  but  armed,  while  we  possessed 
nothmg  more  dangerous  than  bamboo  sticks.  "Alto!" 
they  shouted  in  unison,  but  Catalan,  who  ran  right  into 
them  before  he  could  recover,  raised  his  staff  and 
launched  it  with  all  his  strength  spear-fashion  at  the 
foremost  one.  The  native  fought  the  air  wildly  with 
his  bolo  for  a  few  moments,  but  the  staff,  fully  five 
feet  in  length,  had  hit  him  severely,  and  he  was 
knocked  back  or  perhaps  jumped  back  to  escape 
further  punishment,  although  he  succeeded  in  almost 
severing  Catalan's  weapon  in  two.  Just  then  Pedro 
and  I  came  up,  and  the  second  native  made  a  thrust 
at  us.  Pedro's  move  partook  so  much  of  lightning 
rapidity  that  I  failed  to  observe  it  properly;  I  only 
heard  a  loud  thump,  and  the  boloman  dropped  like  a 
log,  the  blood  gushing  from  an  ugly  wound  in  his  head. 
His  companion  turned  and  fled.  Not  waiting  to  inves- 
tigate the  extent  of  the  man's  injury,  we  flew  on  again, 
shooting  into  all  sorts  of  glades  and  openings  at  all 
manner  of  angles,  sometimes  almost  doubling  on  our 
own  tracks.  Meanwhile  we  could  still  hear  the  cries  of 
our  pursuers  in  the  rear,  who  thus  served  in  enabling 
us  to  locate  them,  and  by  skilful  twisting  and  turning 
we  soon  evaded  them  until  their  shouts  entirely  died 
away  in  the  distance.  Nevertheless  we  made  all  pos- 
sible haste  to  leave  the  neighborhood,  and  by  dusk  had 
placed  several  miles  between  ourselves  and  the  good 
people  of  Masingal. 

At  last  we  struck  the  main  road  and  continued  fol- 
lowing it  in  the  direction  of  Vigan.  Long  before 
morning  we  found  ourselves  in  the  bamboo  thickets 
between  Bantay  and  Vigan,  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 

Here  we  held  a  consultation,  but  it  soon  became 
326 


Fugitives 

evident  to  me  that  all  hope  was  lost,  the  Spaniards  be- 
ing firm  in  their  decision  to  return  to  Abra.  All  my 
arguments  were  in  vain,  no  psalm-book  coming  to  my 
rescue  this  time. 

They  in  their  turn  tried  all  manner  of  means  of  per- 
suading me  to  return  with  them,  asserting  that  their 
General  Peiia  would  plead  in  my  behalf  in  cage  they 
attempted  to  punish  me;  but  I  was  as  firm  in  my  de- 
termination not  again  to  ascend  the  Abra  pass  volun- 
tarily as  they  were  to  do  so.  So  it  became  evident 
that  we  would  have  to  part. 

Catalan  was  going  to  return  to  his  duties  in  the 
hospital  at  Vigan  and  explain  his  day's  absence  with  a 
tale  of  too  much  vino.  Perez  was  still  there,  so  I  re- 
quested the  nurse  to  tell  the  practicante  that  at  half- 
past  eight  that  night  I  would  be  on  the  river-bank  just 
below  the  hospital  building.  Here  was  a  steep  em- 
bankment, and  at  the  foot  of  that  I  requested  Perez  to 
meet  me.    Catalan  promised  to  deliver  my  message. 

At  last  the  Spaniards  rose — they  were  going.  I 
also  arose  and  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  thicket  with 
them,  and  this  caused  them  to  believe  that  I  was  weak- 
ening, but  at  the  last  bush  I  halted.  There  was  no 
hand-shaking;  they  simply  walked  on  a  short  distance 
and  then  turned  to  look  back.  Pedro  motioned  to  me 
to  come  on,  but  I  remained  where  I  was.  Once  more 
they  moved  on,  and  then  I  realized  fully  what  it  was 
to  be  alone  in  an  enemy's  country. 

Feeling  now  that  I  must  hereafter  act  according  to 
my  own  judgment,  and  be  my  own  guide,  I  lay  down 
in  the  bushes,  first,  to  hide,  and,  secondly,  to  think 
over  a  plan  of  action. 

What  could  I  do  alone?  Unless  I  succeeded  in  en- 
327 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

listing  new  recruits  for  my  apparently  hopeless  expe- 
dition, I  felt  that  indeed  all  would  be  lost.  It  was  in 
vain  that  I  tried  to  derive  some  comfort  from  the 
thought  that  every  cloud  has  a  silver  lining.  The 
cloud  that  now  hung  over  me  so  oppressively  seemed 
dark  through  and  through,  I  must  endeavor  to-night 
to  persuade  Perez  to  join  me,  and  as  he  had  been  eager 
once  before,  he  might  be  willing  to  try  again.  At  any 
rate,  I  felt  my  last  hope  rested  with  him. 

It  is  extremely  doubtful  that  I  should  have  re- 
mained hiding  in  that  bush  all  day,  for  the  monotonous 
clanging  of  the  bells  in  Vigan  every  half-hour  almost 
drove  me  frantic.  But  I  was  not  to  have  the  chance 
to  test  my  own  endurance.  It  was  about  ten  o'clock 
when  I  heard  approaching  footsteps  which  stopped 
outside  before  the  bush  in  which  I  was  hidden.  I  could 
not  see  the  person,  but,  presently,  I  heard  the  hacking 
of  a  bolo  against  the  bushes.  Some  native  was  cutting 
green  brush  for  his  carabao.  Nearer  and  nearer  came 
the  cutter  until  I  could  see  his  figure.  Then,  giving 
a  long-drawn  and  noisy  yawn,  I  arose.  Inwardly  I 
trembled,  but  I  tried  to  hide  my  fears.  I  now  saw  be- 
fore me  an  old  "  taui,"  ragged,  wrinkled,  and  tooth- 
less, and  so  feeble  and  harmless  did  he  appear  that  I 
took  courage.  As  I  arose  he  stared  at  me,  eyes  and 
mouth  wide  open.  "Apoo-o,"  he  moaned  out  in  a 
morning  greeting  peculiar  to  the  tauis.  He  under- 
stood no  Spanish,  so,  evidently,  his  dense  intellect  mis- 
took me  for  a  wandering  Spaniard.  "  Abra,"  I  kept 
repeating,  and  I  suppose  he  thought  I  asked  the  way, 
for  he  pointed  toward  La  Bocana,  and  thanking  him 
in  Ilocano,  I  started  of¥  in  that  direction. 

But  now  to  find  another  hiding-place.  I  stepped 
328 


Fugitives 

out  into  the  road  and  started  to  follow  this  along,  as 
I  feared  the  neighborhood  was  hardly  secluded  enough 
for  my  purpose.  Several  women  passed  me  with 
baskets  on  their  heads  bound  for  the  Vigan  market. 
I  had  been  walking  slowly  for  about  ten  minutes,  when 
I  heard  footsteps  behind  me,  and,  as  they  approached 
nearer,  a  voice,  "  Ola,  Castile,  donde  vas?  "  Turning 
around  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a  native,  but 
imagine  my  horror  when  I  recognized  him  as  one  who 
had  formerly  been  Dr.  Chrisolojo's  coachman,  who 
consequently  knew  me  well.  I  had  even  given  him 
several  verbal  lessons  in  English.  For  some  moments 
we  stood  stupidly  staring  at  one  another,  but  at  last  he 
broke  into  a  laugh.  Calling  me  by  name,  he  reached 
out  his  hand,  which  I  shook  as  he  greeted  me  with  a 
"  Good-morning,  meester,"  words  that  I  had  taught 
him  myself.  He  asked  me  no  questions,  however,  for 
he  was  an  intelligent  chap  and  comprehended  the  situ- 
ation. For  a  short  distance  we  walked  silently  on,  side 
by  side,  but  when  we  reached  the  fork  where  the  road 
branched  toward  the  ford  to  Vigan  he  stopped,  inquir- 
ing: "Are  you  going  to  Vigan?"  "No,"  I  an- 
swered, "  not  to  Vigan,  to  America."  He  laughed 
once  more,  shook  hands,  bid  me  "  good-by  "  in  Eng- 
lish, and  went  on  his  way  toward  town.  A  moment 
later  he  stopped  once  more  and  called  back  to  me, 
"  Look  out — muchos  soldados."  Two  minutes  later  I 
saw  him  fording  the  river  below  Vigan. 

Having  my  doubts  of  this  fellow,  I  pushed  on  toward 
the  foot-hills.  He  might  notify  the  soldiers  and  he 
might  not,  but,  wishing  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  I  de- 
termined to  place  some  distance  between  Vigan  and 
myself. 

329 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

On  I  went  along  the  road,  meeting  more  market 
women,  and  even  men,  but  none  molested  me.  I  must 
have  gone  at  least  two  miles,  when  I  reached  a  large 
field  of  sugar-cane,  through  which  a  narrow  path  led 
to  a  hut  somewhere  in  the  interior  of  it,  the  nipa  roof 
being  just  visible  above  the  tops  of  the  cane.  A  sudden 
attack  of  fever  convinced  me  that  I  could  go  no  further, 
so  I  entered  here  to  beg  a  drink  of  water.  After  pass- 
ing through  a  labyrinth  of  paths  in  the  cane-brake,  I 
eventually  reached  a  small  clear  space,  wherein  stood 
the  hut,  like  all  native  bamboo  habitations,  raised  on 
stilts,  about  five  feet  ofif  the  ground.  A  man  was 
sitting  on  his  heels  below,  feeding  a  large  rooster  tied 
by  one  leg  to  a  peg  in  the  ground.  Two  women  above 
in  the  house  were  spinning,  and  three  children  rolled 
about  in  front  of  the  steps,  happy  and  dirty.  It  was 
an  ideal  home  of  the  lower  classes,  ignorant  but  con- 
tented. 

My  appearance  caused  some  excitement.  Bare- 
footed, ragged,  and  bareheaded,  I  must  even  to  them 
have  looked  wild  and  uncouth.  They  understood  a 
little  Spanish,  so  I  asked  for  food,  and  one  of  the 
women  nodded,  inviting  me  to  ascend.  I  did  so,  and 
seated  myself  on  the  bamboo  floor.  They  commenced 
to  question  me — what  was  my  name,  where  did  I  come 
from,  where  was  I  going,  how  did  I  come  to  lose  my 
hat,  why  had  I  no  companions,  and  why  were  my  eyes 
the  color  of  the  sky?  All  these  questions  I  answered 
to  the  best  of  my  ability,  claiming  to  be  from  Vigan 
and  bound  for  Abra.  The  women  and  an  old  man, 
who  now  made  his  appearance,  patted  me  gently  on 
the  head,  calling  me  "  pobre  Castile."  Ten  minutes 
later  they  spread  before  me  a  pot  of  rice,  sliced  toma- 

330 


Fugitives 

toes,  beans,  bananas,  and  water.  I  ate  all,  and  then 
offered  to  pay,  but  this  they  refused.  Once  more  I 
arose  to  go,  but  so  weak  did  I  feel,  and  so  feverish, 
that  I  sank  helplessly  back,  to  rest  a  little  longer. 
Then  the  old  woman  went  into  another  room  and  re- 
turned with  a  mat  and  pillow  which  she  spread  beside 
me,  motioning  me  to  lie  down.  What  a  relief  to 
stretch  myself,  my  head  resting  in  the  soft  bag  of  cot- 
ton.    Before  I  knew  it,  I  was  asleep. 

All  day  I  lay  there  as  unconscious  of  my  surround- 
ings as  one  dead,  my  body  needing  to  recuperate  from 
the  violent  exertions  of  the  last  three  days.  When 
I  awoke,  the  sun  was  low  on  the  horizon  and  the 
shadows  were  long.  As  the  women  saw  that  I  was 
awake,  they  placed  another  meal  before  me,  similar 
to  the  previous  one,  and  then  sat  about  on  their  heels 
while  I  satisfied  my  appetite. 

The  old  man  came  in,  as  also  the  young  one,  with 
the  children,  the  whole  family  now  being  there.  The 
old  woman  held  a  mischievous  little  youngster  of  three 
up  for  me  to  admire,  and  I  good-naturedly  pulled  his 
little  nose,  what  there  was  of  it  at  least,  and  this 
humorous  feat  placed  the  rest  of  the  family  on  the  most 
friendly  footing  with  me,  including  the  youngster  him- 
self, who  yelled  with  delight.  I  had  not  yet  finished 
eating  when  the  old  man  pulled  down  a  straw  hat 
from  a  peg  almost  as  ancient  as  himself,  and  laid  it  be- 
side me.  "  For  you,"  he  explained,  and  I  accepted  it 
gratefully. 

By  this  time  the  fever  had  left  me,  and  my  strength 
returned.  It  was  almost  sunset,  and,  bidding  my 
friends  good-by,  I  descended  the  steps  and  started  off 
for  the  main  road. 

331 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  The  Filipinos  respect  nb  law  but  fear,"  the  padre 
had  assured  me  at  Namacpacan.  What  fear  then  could 
I,  a  miserable,  ragged,  and  helpless  scarecrow,  have 
inspired  in  these  people  who  had  treated  me  with  such 
kindness — me,  whom  they  thought  a  Spaniard,  one  of 
the  race  that  for  centuries  had  oppressed  them,  though 
now  vanquished  forever,  no  longer  to  be  feared?  "  No, 
padre,"  I  said  to  myself  as  I  trudged  down  the  path, 
"  you  who  have  been  in  the  country  for  years  under- 
stand these  people  less  than  I  who  came  but  yester- 
day." 

I  had  almost  reached  the  main  road  when  the  notes 
of  a  bugle  reached  my  ears,  from  close  by,  tooting  a 
march,  a  regular  toot-toot-toot,  to  which  the  soldiers 
keep  step  in  lieu  of  a  drum.  I  had  just  time  to  crouch 
down  in  the  canes,  the  approaching  dusk  helping  to 
hide  me,  when  some  two  dozen  soldiers  came  march- 
ing by,  going  up  toward  La  Bocana.  An  officer  on 
horseback  headed  this  little  column,  but  at  that  time  I 
did  not  know  that  this  was  General  Natividad;  I  only 
felt  more  cheerful  as  I  realized  that  this  would  reduce 
the  garrison  in  Vigan  at  least  by  one-half.  Not  that 
I  contemplated  an  attack  on  the  town  by  myself,  but 
sentries  would  be  fewer. 

I  waited  until  the  monotonous  notes  of  the  bugle 
had  died  out  in  the  distance,  and  then  got  up  once 
more  and  stepped  out  on  the  road.  It  was  now 
dark. 

According  to  the  church  bell  it  was  seven  o'clock 
when  I  reached  the  river-bank  opposite  the  hospital. 
On  the  Vigan  side  of  the  river  a  steep  bank  rises 
abruptly  from  the  water,  the  bishop's  palace,  a  nun- 
nery, and  the  hospital  being  built  almost  on  the  brink 

332 


Fugitives 

of  this  embankment.  It  was*my  intention  to  reach  a 
small  stretch  of  flat  beach  directly  under  the  hospital, 
the  place  where  I  had  engaged  to  meet  Perez.  A  path 
led  down  the  steep  bank  from  the  hospital  grounds 
above  to  this  shelf  of  ground,  and  would  be  easy  for 
anybody  to  reach  from  that  direction,  but  I  now  saw 
that  for  me  to  get  there  was  not  to  be  accomplished 
without  difficulty.  I  tried  to  creep  along  the  bank  by 
the  water's  edge,  but  found  it  impossible;  the  ground 
rose  too  abruptly  from  the  water,  and  I  dared  not  re- 
sort to  swimming,  for  in  this  part  the  river  was  full 
of  thorny  bushes  placed  there  for  the  propagation  of 
fish.  I  made  an  effort  to  climb  the  embankment,  but 
slipped  and  fell  with  a  loud  crash.  "Alto!"  cried  a 
sentry  from  above,  but  I  lay  still.  "  Alto !  quien  vive?  " 
came  several  times,  then  I  heard  the  report  of  a  gun, 
and  a  bullet  whistled  far  to  my  left.  I  lay  there  quietly 
for  some  time,  and  then  crawled  back. 

I  now  determined  to  approach  the  place  of  meeting 
by  coming  up  along  the  bank  from  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, but  to  reach  there  I  must  pass  directly  through 
the  town.  Tying  a  handkerchief  around  my  head  I 
walked  up  into  the  streets  of  Vigan,  directly  into  the 
main  thoroughfare,  where  the  lamps  from  the  shops 
brightly  illuminated  the  scene.  Taking  my  hat  off  I 
held  it  before  me  as  did  the  begging  Spaniards,  and, 
limping  up  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  my  cane  in  one 
hand,  the  hat  in  the  other,  I  made  my  way  through  the 
main  part  of  the  town,  begging  from  all  I  met.  No- 
body paid  any  particular  attention  to  me,  and  soon  I 
was  treading  the  quieter  and  more  deserted  streets 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  prison.  I  took  care  not  to 
enter  the  plaza,  for  I  knew  that  sentries  were  stationed 

333 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

before  the  palace,  the  nunnery,  the  college  (Vigan  had 
a  fine  college),  the  presidency,  and  the  barracks.  Fi- 
nally I  lost  my  bearings,  as  we  say  aboard  ship,  and 
for  some  time  I  wandered  aimlessly  about,  fearing  to 
meet  the  eight  o'clock  patrol  or  run  into  a  sentry. 
Never  before  had  I  thought  Vigan  to  be  so  exten- 
sive as  it  now  seemed.  Eventually  I  approached  a 
native  pedestrian  and  inquired  the  way  to  the  hospital; 
first  I  wished  him  to  believe  me  a  belated  patient  from 
there,  and,  secondly,  if  I  had  but  the  lofty  roof  of  the 
hospital  building  to  guide  me,  I  would  soon  find  my 
way  to  that  part  of  the  river  I  was  searching  for.  I 
regretted,  however,  having  addressed  this  man  when 
he  kindly  offered  to  conduct  me  there.  I  limped  des- 
perately, but  the  native  placed  his  arm  under  mine 
to  support  me — he  evidently  thought  me  a  cripple. 
I  felt  small  and  cheap. 

At  last  I  noticed  the  familiar  outlines  of  the  hospital 
building  before  me,  and  then  I  begged  my  guide  to 
trouble  himself  no  further,  and,  fortunately,  he  left  me, 
for  had  he  really  conducted  me  into  the  hospital  the 
chances  were  that  I  should  have  had  to  remain  there. 
Guided  now  by  familiar  landmarks,  I  found  myself  at 
length  behind  the  old  prison  wherein  I  had  already 
spent  a  month.  From  here  to  the  river  was  but  a  few 
steps,  and  soon  I  reached  the  water. 

However,  I  soon  discovered  that  to  reach  the  little 
beach  under  the  hospital  by  this  bank  was  equally  im- 
possible, for,  besides  being  just  as  steep,  there  was  not 
a  bush  to  shelter  me. 

Once  more  I  retraced  my  steps,  and  for  a  while 
wandered  about  the  streets  in  hopes  of  meeting  a 
Spaniard  by  whom  I  might  send  word  to  Perez,  but  it 

334 


Fugitives 

was  now  too  late,  as  all  the  patients  were  supposed  to 
be  in  by  eight. 

I  was  just  coming  up  a  small  alley  and  stepping  into 
a  larger  street,  when  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a 
patrol  of  at  least  a  dozen  soldiers.  So  narrow  was  the 
thoroughfare,  that  they  passed  me  on  both  sides.  My 
heart  jumped  into  my  throat,  but  beyond  slapping  my 
back  and  shouting,  "  Ola  Castile!  "  they  did  not  molest 
me. 

As  it  had  now  struck  eight  some  time  ago,  I  became 
desperate  and  determined  to  swim  through  the  fish- 
traps.  Once  more  I  forded  the  river,  and,  going  down 
the  opposite  bank,  stood  just  across  the  river  from  the 
spot  which  I  was  desirous  of  reaching.  The  bell  struck 
the  appointed  hour,  half-past  eight,  and  I  waded  out 
into  the  water  until  beyond  my  depth.  Then,  holding 
the  cane  in  my  mouth  by  its  rope  lanyard,  I  started  to 
swim  across.  Fortunately  the  current  here  was  slug- 
gish, and  I  drifted  but  little.  Gradually  I  approached 
the  opposite  shore,  but  when  hardly  ten  feet  more  re- 
mained I  found  myself  entangled  in  the  thorny  bushes. 
The  more  I  struggled  the  more  I  tore  myself,  and  I 
could  not  stand  still,  as  the  water  here  was  deeper 
than  my  height.  Frantically  I  kicked  about,  when, 
just  as  I  was  about  instinctively  to  cry  out  for  help,  I 
caught  an  overhanging  bush  from  the  bank,  and  by 
this  endeavored  to  draw  myself  up.  I  found,  however, 
that  my  strength  was  not  equal  to  it,  and  there  I  hung, 
half  my  body  under  water.  Several  times  I  tried,  but 
each  effort  only  served  to  weaken  me  the  more,  and  I 
hung  there  helplessly. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  rustling  in  the  bushes  above, 
something  grasped  both  my  hands,  and  I  felt  myself 

335 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

drawn  steadily  up  until  I  lay  flat  on  terra  firma. 
"Hombre!  Alberto!  Madre  de  Dios! "  I  heard  a 
familiar  voice  exclaim  in  a  loud  whisper,  and  Perez  and 
I  were  embracing  each  other,  half  laughing,  half  cry- 
ing.   There  was  no  occasion  to  hide  our  feelings. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  I  walked.  My  left  leg 
had  been  badly  torn  in  the  fish  bushes,  but  we  went 
off  into  an  obscure  thicket  to  converse.  Perez  was 
more  excited  than  I,  and  for  some  time  could  do  no 
more  than  give  vent  to  exclamations.  At  length  he 
regained  his  composure  and  I  told  him  my  experiences 
of  the  last  three  days,  ending  up  with  an  explanation 
of  the  situation  and  a  proposal  that  he  accompany 
me  on  another  search  for  a  boat.  Then  he  explained 
how  hopeless  such  an  expedition  would  be. 

First,  as  a  landing  by  the  Americans  was  feared, 
every  possible  place  where  a  boat  could  be  launched 
was  carefully  guarded  and  watched.  Secondly,  there 
were  no  boats  equipped;  all  had  been  stripped  of 
masts,  rigging,  or  oars,  until  nothing  remained  but  the 
naked  hulls.  And  white  man  seen  near  these  landing- 
places  would  be  fired  upon  at  sight. 

These,  and  many  others,  were  the  reasons  that  Perez 
held  forth  as  impassable  obstacles.  My  only  resource, 
he  said,  was  to  return  to  Bangued  and  throw  myself  on 
the  mercy  of  the  provincial  authorities.  I  had  friends 
there  with  much  influence,  who  would  plead  for  me, 
and  in  all  probability  I  would  not  be  punished  at  all. 

Perez  remained  with  me  until  a  little  before  ten, 
when  he  was  obliged  to  retire,  as  the  doors  of  the  hos- 
pital were  closed  at  that  hour.  Before  leaving  he  made 
an  efifort  to  press  a  half  peso  on  me,  but  this  I  declined, 
especially  as  I  still  had  some  silver  on  me. 

336 


Fugitives 

For  some  time  after  he  was  gone  I  lay  in  the  bushes 
gazing  at  the  moon,  trying  to  think  of  some  way  out 
of  my  troubles,  but  my  situation  seemed  now  as  hope- 
less as  it  could  possibly  be.  I  determined  at  length  to 
return  to  the  hut  where  I  had  spent  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  day,  and  remain  there  until  I  could  decide 
on  some  definite  plan  of  action. 

On  rising  I  found  my  left  leg  stiff  and  throbbing 
with  pain.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  neither 
could  nor  would  swim  that  river  again.  So  I  did  the 
only  thing  left  for  me  to  do,  that  is,  I  climbed  the 
bank  and  stood  in  the  plaza. 

A  faint  hope  that  I  might  elude  the  sentries  pos- 
sessed me.  The  thought  struck  me  of  once  more  seek- 
ing shelter  with  Baldolomar,  and  with  considerable 
reluctance  I  decided  to  make  an  effort  in  that  direction. 
I  felt  that  it  was  wrong  for  me  to  endanger  him  and  his 
family  with  my  presence,  but  it  was  my  last  resource. 

I  passed  the  hospital  on  my  right,  safely.  The  sen- 
try in  front  of  the  nunnery  also  failed  to  see  me,  as  I 
crept  along  under  the  trees  in  the  middle  of  the  plaza. 
I  had  yet  to  pass  the  palace  and  the  presidency,  the 
former  on  my  left,  the  latter  on  my  right.  I  had  al- 
ready passed  the  tall  stone  monument  in  the  centre  of 
the  plaza,  when  a  loud  cry  rang  out:  "Alto,  quien 
vive?  "  With  a  nervous  start  I  flung  the  cane  into 
the  bushes  at  my  feet,  and  there  I  let  it  lie. 


337 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
MARINES  FROM  THE  OREGON 

Colonel  Joaquin  Alejandrino  —  Back  to  the  hospital  —  Captain 
Chrisolojo's  cool  reception  —  The  same  old  Castro  —  The 
young  sergeant  at  the  skirmish  of  San  Jacinto — Turned  over 
to  the  Provincial  Governor — A  mysterious  visitor — A  proposi- 
tion— The  drugged  sentry — Don  Mariano  Acosta,  Presidente 
Provincial  de  Ilocos  Sur — The  secret  room — In  hiding — 
Padre  Galipay — Three  American  war-vessels — The  bombard- 
ment commences — Don  Mariano  and  his  staff  alarmed — Ig- 
nacio  Villamor — Down  to  the  beach — The  starry  banner  floats 
over  Vigan. 

AGAIN  the  sentry  challenged,  and  this  time  I 
answere<i,  "  Castile;  "  advancing  toward  the 
palace  gates  until  within  a  dozen  yards  of 
him,  when  he  commanded  me  to  halt.  "  Show  your 
pass,"  he  ordered,  as  he  in  turn  approached  me. 
"  I  have  none,"  was  my  reply.  Telling  me  to  stay 
where  I  was,  he  returned  to  his  post  and  called  a  non- 
commissioned officer,  who  came  out  and  commenced 
questioning  me,  asking  what  I  was  doing  out  after  taps 
without  a  pass.  "  I  am  an  escaped  American  prisoner 
from  Bangued,"  I  answered.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
he  would  fall  down  with  astonishment.  Just  then  an 
officer  appeared,  who  demanded  to  know  what  it  all 
was  about,  and  to  him  the  non-commissioned  officer 
repeated  my  words.  "  Well,  come  inside  out  of  the 
rain,"  was  his  reply,  for  it  had  commenced  to  drizzle 
again.    The  three  of  us  stepped  inside  of  the  spacious 

338 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

entrance  of  the  palace.  The  officer  was  a  young  mes- 
tizo of  about  my  own  age,  yet  on  each  shoulder  he 
wore  the  golden  star  of  a  colonel. 

"  Your  name  is  Alberto,  is  it  not?  "  he  asked  as 
we  came  into  the  light  of  a  hanging  lantern.  "  Yes," 
I  replied,  surprised  that  he  should  know  me.  "  Where 
have  you  been  since  the  17th?  "  he  continued,  "  and 
how  is  it  that  those  fools  in  Bangued  did  not  telegraph 
of  your  escape  before  this  afternoon?  " 

I  told  him  briefly  of  my  adventures  since  leaving 
Bangued,  of  the  trip  to  Masingal,  and  how  the  three 
Spaniards  had  deserted  me.  "The  cowards!"  he 
cried,  as  I  finished,  "  to  leave  a  companion  like  that. 
But  what  can  you  expect  from  a  Spaniard?  My  God! 
how  wet  you  are!  What  is  the  matter  with  your  leg? 
are  you  wounded?  "  I  told  him  of  my  swim  across  the 
river.  "  Ah,  it  was  you  the  sentry  fired  at  some  hours 
ago.  Lucky  for  you  he  is  a  boy  and  can't  shoot.  Are 
you  hungry?  "  "  Rather,"  I  replied,  in  order  to  pre- 
vent further  interrogation  on  the  subject.  Leaving 
me  for  a  few  minutes,  he  ran  upstairs,  returning  with 
a  coat  and  pants.  "  Here,"  he  said,  "  throw  off  those 
rags,  here  is  one  of  my  own  suits,  a  Filipino  uniform." 
With  very  little  trouble  I  wriggled  out  of  the  cazador's 
suit,  which  the  fish  traps  had  torn  into  shreds,  and 
when  again  I  emerged  from  behind  the  door  I  was 
attired  in  the  uniform  of  an  Insurgent  colonel,  minus 
the  stars.  "  Bien,  bien,"  exclaimed  the  young  officer 
(thus  reminding  me  of  Abasilla),  "  now  you  look  pre- 
sentable." He  then  ordered  a  soldier  to  bandage  my 
leg  with  his  own  handkerchief,  which  he  tore  into  strips 
for  the  purpose.  The  pockets  of  my  new  suit  he  filled 
with  cigarettes  and  cigars.     Leading  me  out  to  the 

339 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

gate,  he  said:  "  I  will  now  send  you  to  the  hospital 
with  this  guard.  I  am  sorry,  deeply  sorry,  that  you 
failed.  You  deserve  your  liberty.  It  is  my  duty,  how- 
ever, to  guard  against  your  escaping  again,  but  I  as- 
sure you,  it  is  against  my  own  inclinations.  Let  us 
hope  that  your  imprisonment  may  not  last  much 
longer,  but  I  am  afraid,  my  friend,  that  you  have  yet 
to  undergo  some  hardships.  Would  that  you  could 
continue  under  my  charge,  but  I  must  return  you  to 
Bangued.  But  take  this;  it  will  help  you  on  the  road." 
As  he  said  this,  he  slipped  a  silver  peso  into  my  hand. 
"  No,  no,"  he  continued,  as  I  hesitated  just  a  moment. 
"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  accept  this  as  charity,  only  as  a 
loan;  some  day  you  may  repay  me — I  would  take  it 
from  you  under  similar  circumstances;  and  now  good- 
by."  He  reached  out  his  hand,  which  I  grasped. 
"One  thing  before  we  part,"  I  requested:  "May  I 
know  to  whom  I  owe  this  more  than  kind  treatment?  " 
"  My  name  is  Joaquin  Alejandrino,"  he  answered,  and 
then,  with  a  warm  shake  of  the  hand,  we  parted. 

It  was  about  midnight  when  the  guard  and  I  en- 
tered the  hospital.  I  was  at  once  taken  up  to  the  floor 
above,  and  in  ten  minutes  it  was  known  that  I  had 
arrived,  and  all  the  inmates,  from  the  officers  to  the 
soldiers,  gathered  around  to  greet  me,  with  more 
noise  and  effusion  than  either  the  hour  or  the  place 
would  seem  to  warrant.  Perez  seemed  nervous  and 
excited,  laughing  hysterically,  until  even  the  others 
wondered  where  he  saw  the  joke.  The  doctor's  wife 
and  mother  appeared  and  at  once  called  the  sleeping 
servants  to  prepare  a  meal,  but  all  this  kindness  only 
made  me  feel  like  a  bad  little  boy  who  has  run  away 
from  home  and  come  back  to  be  good.    The  Seiiora 

340 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

chided  me  gently  as  a  mother  would  her  child.  Why 
had  I  run  away  from  people  who  had  treated  me  so 
kindly  as  they  had  in  Bangued?  Alejandrino  had  sent 
a  written  message,  stating  that  I  had  not  eaten,  and 
something  must  be  prepared  for  me  at  once,  but  the 
message  was  not  necessary.  While  I  ate  a  hearty  meal, 
I  answered  a  thousand  questions  from  all  sides,  until, 
finally,  all  retired  again,  and  I  slept  in  my  old  bed  that 
night. 

When  I  awoke  in  the  morning  the  scene  seemed 
so  familiar  that  I  half  believed  the  last  three  months 
a  dream,  but  soon  I  noticed  how  many  of  the  old  faces 
were  missing.  Sixteen  had  gone  to  the  "  campo 
santo  "  since  my  departure,  making  a  total  of  thirty 
in  four  and  one-half  months.  In  fact,  most  of  those 
that  lay  about  me  now  I  had  either  never  seen  before 
or  known  as  convalescents  downstairs. 

Later  on  Dr.  Chrisolojo  paid  me  a  morning  call.  His 
manner  was  decidedly  cool  toward  me.  Without  ofifer- 
ing  to  shake  hands  he  simply  greeted  me  with  a 
"  buenas  dias."  For  a  moment  he  stood  simply  gaz- 
ing at  me,  until  at  length  he  ventured  the  remark  that 
I  had  not  acted  squarely  toward  him.  "  Why?  "  I 
asked,  "  how  can  you  complain  of  my  behavior?  " 

"  I  recommended  you  to  the  good  treatment  of  Aba- 
silla,"  he  replied,  "  and  he  allowed  you  the  liberty  of 
the  town  on  his  own  responsibility.  In  this  flight  you 
took  advantage  of  a  friend  by  compromising  him  with 
the  Government." 

"  How  could  either  you  or  Abasilla  be  responsible 
for  me  when  Aguinaldo  himself  had  ordered  the  pro- 
vincial authorities  to  allow  us  the  liberty  of  the  town?  " 

"  But  you  were  not  in  the  hands  of  the  provincial 
341 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

authorities,  you  were  under  our  charge,  and  we  had 
not  received  any  orders  to  allow  you  extra  privileges." 

"  I  was  not  on  parole,  however." 

"  Practically  you  were." 

However,  as  I  remembered  Abasilla's  words  on  this 
subject,  my  conscience  did  not  trouble  me.  I  had 
never  heard  of  a  prisoner  begging  permission  to  es- 
cape, so  Clirisolojo  and  I  differed  on  this  point.  Later 
in  the  day  we  met  again  out  on  the  back  gallery.  I 
was  sitting  there  gloomily  contemplating  the  sea, 
when  the  doctor  slapped  me  familiarly  on  the  back, 
saying:  "Well,  I  suppose  it  is  pretty  hard  to  reach 
out  for  liberty,  to  find  it  almost  within  your  grasp,  and 
then  fall  back  again  deeper  into  the  mire  than  ever?  " 
By  evening  we  were  on  the  same  old  familiar  footing; 
he  had  quite  forgiven  me. 

I  was  standing  out  on  the  balcony  leaning  over  the 
railing,  when  somebody  slapped  me  across  the  shoul- 
ders with  a  force  to  almost  deprive  me  of  my  breath. 
Turning  around,  whom  should  I  see  but  Castro,  the 
same  old  Castro.  Not  one  word  of  reproach  from  him ! 
He  made  an  effort  to  comfort  me  by  prophesying  my 
ultimate  release  within  two  months,  and,  although  I 
did  not  believe  him,  yet  I  found  comfort  in  the  sym- 
pathetic tone  of  his  voice.  Imprisonment  was,  after  all, 
not  so  terrible  with  such  friends  as  he  to  associate  with. 
Every  spare  moment  he  had  during  the  day  he  spent 
trying  to  divert  my  mind  from  brooding  over  my 
failure,  either  by  chess  or  by  telling  me  funny  stories, 
and  he  partly  succeeded. 

Besides  the  Spaniards,  there  were  also  four  wounded 
Insurgent  non-commissioned  officers  in  the  ward. 
Next  to  me,  on  the  cot  where  I  had  seen  my  friend, 

342 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

the  young  Spanish  cazador,  die,  now  lay  another  boy, 
a  young  Filipino  sergeant,  not  more  than  eighteen 
years  of  age.  The  fact  that  he  was  a  cousin  to  Paredes 
made  us  friends  at  once.  He  had  been  shot  through 
his  right  arm  at  a  town  called  San  Jacinto,  in  a  fierce 
skirmish  with  the  Americans,  ten  days  before. 

"  Your  countrymen,"  he  informed  me,  "  had  disem- 
barked at  San  Fabian,  ten  to  our  one.  We  resisted 
their  landing  at  the  cost  of  half  our  men,  but,  Dios  mio! 
we  were  helpless;  they  drove  us  before  them  as  the 
wind  blows  the  dust  on  the  road.  For  numbers  they 
were  like  ants,  and  they  came  screaming  and  yelling 
like  madmen.  Half  our  shells  would  not  explode.  Still 
our  men  did  not  stampede,  but  retreated  in  order,  fir- 
ing as  they  went.  At  times  we  were  fighting  hand  to 
hand,  and  I  placed  the  muzzle  of  my  gun  close  to  the 
breast  of  an  American  and  pulled  the  trigger.  But  of 
what  good  is  our  refilled  ammunition?  My  cartridge 
did  not  explode,  and  the  American  shot  me  through 
the  arm  with  his  revolver.  So  big  he  was,  too,  tower- 
ing far  above  me;  his  fist  would  have  been  as  formi- 
dable as  his  revolver.  Then  they  turned  those  horrible 
Maxim  guns  on  us,  and  our  men  fell  like  sheaves  of 
rice  in  reaping  time.  How  we  Filipinos  dread  those 
machine  guns,  that  awful  rattle,  more  terrible  than  the 
bursting  of  large  shells."  And  so  he  kept  on  chatting 
for  several  hours,  telling  me  of  the  many  battles  he 
had  taken  part  in.  I  could  not  help  liking  the  boy,  he 
prattled  away  so  unsophisticatedly.  "  How  singular," 
he  said,  reflectively,  "  your  countrymen  and  mine  are 
now  fighting  one  another,  to  see  who  can  kill  the  most, 
and,  yet,  here  we  two  are  the  best  of  friends.  I  am  sure 
if  I  were  to  kill  you  now,  I  would  feel  as  bad  about  it 

343 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

as  if  you  were  a  Filipino.    How  terrible  war  is,  after 
all." 

All  that  day  and  the  next  I  spent  in  the  hospital. 
Natividad  had  gone  up  to  Bangued  the  day  before. 
He  it  was  whom  I  had  seen  passing  from  the  cane- 
brake.  Alejandrino  was  in  command,  and  he  had  tele- 
graphed my  recapture  to  Bangued.  In  reply  an  order 
came  to  send  me  on  at  once  with  a  strong  guard  of 
police.  This  much  Chrisolojo  had  told  me,  so  when 
on  the  evening  of  the  22d  a  sergeant  of  police  and  seven 
men  appeared  with  an  order  for  me,  I  was  not  sur- 
prised. 

My  parting  with  Chrisolojo  and  his  family  was  as 
heartfelt  as  before.  The  two  ladies  wept  and  filled 
the  pockets  of  the  colonel's  uniform  that  I  wore  with 
cigars,  cakes,  and  other  home-made  delicacies  for  the 
road,  they  told  me.  Castro  accompanied  me  to  the 
gate  below,  and  shook  hands  with  me  four  or  five 
times,  forgetting  after  each  time  that  he  had  done  so. 
He  would  see  me  again,  he  declared,  since  the  whole 
hospital  corps  of  Vigan  was  coming  up  to  Bangued 
also  within  a  few  days. 

The  squad  of  policemen  conducted  me  over  to  the 
presidency  close  by,  where  I  learned  that  I  was  not  to 
go  until  in  the  morning  early. 

I  was  now  in  the  hands  of  the  Provincial  Governor, 
who  had  received  orders  to  send  me  on  to  the  provin- 
cial authorities  of  Abra.  Meanwhile,  I  was  confined  in 
a  cell  in  the  back  part  of  the  building,  in  total  darkness. 
Several  times  officers  came  in  to  interview  me  on  my 
escape  from  Bangued.  None  blamed  me,  but  all 
agreed  that  the  expedition  had  been  hopeless  from  the 
beginning.    Every  one  of  them  condemned  the  Span- 

344 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

iards  for  deserting  me,  finishing  up  with,  "  But  what 
can  you  expect  from  such  people?  " 

It  must  have  been  two  hours  since  the  last  visitor 
had  departed,  and  I  was  lying  on  a  mat  passing  away 
the  time  smoking  cigars,  of  which  I  had  a  good  supply, 
for  each  visitor  had  been  generous  with  me.  The 
church  bell  had  some  time  ago  sounded  the  hour  of  ten, 
but,  in  spite  of  my  repeated  requests  for  a  light,  I 
lay  in  Egyptian  darkness.  Suddenly  I  became  aware 
of  something  moving  at  the  door.  Somebody  outside 
was  gently  inserting  a  key  in  the  lock,  and  with  a  slight 
click  the  bolt  flew  back.  I  could  see  against  the  dim 
light  of  a  lantern  outside  in  the  corridor  as  a  back- 
ground, the  outlines  of  a  man  in  the  half  open  door- 
way. The  door  closed  again  and  I  knew  somebody 
had  entered.  This  stealthy  manner  not  only  surprised 
me,  but  also  caused  me  to  feel  the  least  bit  alarmed. 
"  Quien  vive!  "  I  called  out,  but  in  reply  only  received 
an  alarmed  "  sh-sh."  A  match  was  struck  and  a  lan- 
tern lit,  that  feebly  illuminated  the  apartment.  Be- 
fore me  I  saw  a  short,  thick-set  Filipino,  a  man  whom 
I  had  never  seen  before.  Coming  up  close  to  me  he 
placed  the  lantern  on  the  floor  and  seated  himself  on  a 
small  bench.  Then  he  explained  to  me  the  cause  of 
his  mysterious  visit. 

His  name  was  Lazo,  and  under  the  civil  government 
he  held  the  position  of  "  Conciejero  de  la  Presidencia." 
He  had  entire  charge  of  the  building  and  the  servants, 
a  sort  of  major-domo.  But  that  was  neither  here  nor 
there;  he  had  come  in  the  name  of  the  Provincial  Gov- 
ernor, Don  Mariano  Acosta,  to  make  me  a  proposition. 
He  would  not  alone  help  me  to  escape  again,  but  also 
hide  me  on  certain  conditions.    The  Americans  were 

345 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

advancing  up  the  coast  and  could  be  expected  within  a 
week's  time.  If  I  would  represent  to  my  countrymen, 
upon  their  arrival,  that  the  Governor  and  all  his  coun- 
cilmen  were  peacefully  disposed,  and  that  they  ex- 
tended an  honest  welcome  to  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment, he,  the  Governor,  for  his  part,  would  allow 
me  to  hide  until  the  military  had  been  driven  from  the 
town  by  the  advancing  forces.  Needless  to  say  that  I 
accepted  the  proposition. 

Lazo  left  the  cell  again,  carefully  extinguishing  the 
lantern  before  doing  so,  as  soldiers  still  guarded  the 
building.  Anxiously  I  lay  there  waiting,  listening  to 
the  occasional  challenge  of  the  sentry  outside.  At  last, 
fully  two  hours  later,  a  key  was  cautiously  inserted  in 
the  lock  again,  and  the  door  opened.  In  a  loud 
whisper  I  heard  my  name  called,  whereupon  I  arose 
and  approached  the  open  doorway.  A  hand  grasped 
my  arm  and  I  was  gently  drawn  outside,  where  I  recog- 
nized Lazo  by  the  light  of  the  sentry-box  at  the  en- 
trance. A  sentinel  was  stationed  there,  but  appeared 
to  be  dozing,  being  seated  on  a  bench,  his  gun  between 
his  legs,  his  back  against  the  wall,  and  his  head  sag- 
ging down  on  his  chest.  We  passed  the  man  close  by, 
ar.d  I  could  observe  that  his  sleep  was  not  natural. 
"  Opium,"  whispered  Lazo,  pointing  to  an  empty 
vino  glass  on  the  floor.  "  He  will  wake  up,  see  the 
open  door,  and  run  away — one  soldier  less."  Evi- 
dently my  new  acquaintance  was  no  fool. 

Lazo  conducted  me  up  a  broad  winding  staircase 
into  a  large,  elegant  office  furnished  with  massive 
carved  mahogany  furniture.  A  tall  mestizo,  unusually 
large  for  a  Filipino,  sat  at  a  desk,  engaged  with  his 
own  thoughts  and  a  bottle  of  vino.    As  I  entered,  he 

346 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

greeted  me  as  though  I  was  a  long-lost  friend,  while 
Lazo  introduced  him  to  me  as  Don  Mariano  Acosta, 
Presidente  Provincial  de  Ilocos  Sur.  The  Governor 
was  in  a  cheerful  state  of  intoxication,  although  he  re- 
tained enough  of  his  mental  faculties  to  discuss  the 
question  at  hand,  but  he  only  went  over  the  same 
ground  that  Lazo  had  done.  I  understood  the  situa- 
tion perfectly.  I  would  tell  the  Americans  how  good 
he  was,  and  he  would  hide  me  from  the  military.  We 
both  shook  hands  on  the  agreement. 

The  three  of  us  then  arose  from  where  we  had  been 
seated,  and,  the  Governor  leading  the  way,  we  went 
through  a  long,  narrow  passage,  the  door  to  which 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  the  wall.  Reaching  the  end 
after  several  turns  and  bends,  a  second  door  was 
opened,  and  we  entered  a  small  room,  hardly  any  larger 
than  the  stateroom  of  a  steamer.  The  furniture  con- 
sisted of  a  small  iron  bedstead,  a  table,  a  chair,  and  two 
closed  bookcases.  Evidently  the  room  had  been  ar- 
ranged for  my  reception,  for  it  had  been  neatly  cleaned 
and  everything  was  in  order,  candles,  matches,  writing 
material,  and  books.  After  conversing  a  few  moments 
longer  they  retired,  telling  me  to  bolt  the  door  from 
the  inside,  and  never  to  open  unless  I  heard  two  taps 
almost  together,  and  a  third  after  a  short  interval. 
That  was  to  be  the  signal. 

To  say  that  my  new  quarters  were  comfortable  is 
a  mild  expression.  With  writing  materials,  books,  and 
an  abundance  of  cigars,  time  would  pass  rapidly. 

I  had  been  alone  hardly  an  hour,  when  I  heard  the 
three  taps  agreed  upon.  Slipping  back  the  bolt,  I 
opened  the  door,  and  Lazo  entered,  followed  by  Bar- 
toleme,  the  alcaide  of  the  prison,  our  former  jailer. 

347 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

His  greeting  was  effusive,  truly  Spanish  in  that  respect, 
but  when  he  laid  a  package  on  the  table,  which,  on 
being  opened,  displayed  ten  sausages  and  two  hundred 
cigars,  I  began  to  "  smell  a  rat,"  to  use  a  vulgar 
expression.  He  also  presented  me  with  a  beautiful 
carved  cigarholder  of  carabao  horn.  Here  were  peace 
offerings.  What  I  expected  soon  followed:  Would 
Sefior  Alberto  write  him  a  letter  of  recommendation  to 
the  American  "  oficiales,"  stating  how  he  had  always 
been  our  friend,  and  that  he  desired  nothing  more  than 
to  be  a  peaceful  citizen  of  the  great  United  States.  I 
could  not  well  refuse  him  since  he  had  really  always 
been  civil  and  even  kind  to  us,  so  wrote  a  short  letter, 
addressed  to  any  American,  introducing  the  bearer, 
Don  Bartoleme,  as  a  man  worthy  of  the  consideration 
of  my  countrymen  for  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
treated  us. 

We  then  conversed  on  the  situation.  The  town  was 
garrisoned  by  twenty  odd  soldiers.  Tifio  and  Villa- 
mor  were  being  driven  up  the  coast  road,  and  within 
a  week  the  Americans  would  enter  Vigan.  Alejan- 
drino  would  not  offer  any  resistance,  so  my  callers  ex- 
pected a  peaceful  instalment  of  the  American  forces, 
especially  if  I  should  be  there.  Presently  they  left 
me,  and  soon  I  was  dreaming  of  starry  flags  and 
liberty. 

Early  next  morning  I  heard  the  signal,  and,  upon 
my  opening,  a  boy  entered  who  immediately  proceeded 
to  sweep  and  thoroughly  clean  out  the  room,  leaving 
me  soap,  a  basin  of  water,  and  towel.  Another  boy 
brought  in  a  tray  of  dishes  and  began  setting  the  table. 
Lazo  entered,  and  the  two  of  us  sat  down  to  a  breakfast 
such  as  I  had  not  seen  since  the  wedding-day  of  Seiior- 

348 


Marines  from  the  Oregfon 


&' 


ita  Paredes.  While  we  discussed  the  victuals,  my  com- 
panion gave  me  some  important  instructions.  Through 
a  hole  in  the  wall  I  could  observe  and  hear  all  that 
passed  in  the  Governor's  office.  Within  a  short  space 
of  time  the  report  would  be  spread  that  I  had  again 
escaped  through  the  treachery  of  the  sentry,  who  had 
placed  his  gun  in  the  rack  and  disappeared.  Should 
Alejandrino,  however,  suspect  the  civil  authorities  and 
search  the  house,  I  must  be  prepared.  If  any  attempts 
were  made  to  open  my  door,  I  must  drop  out  of  the 
shell  window  by  means  of  a  rope  which  was  already 
attached  to  the  sill,  and  seek  shelter  in  a  certain  out- 
house, from  where  one  of  the  boys  would  guide  me  to 
safer  quarters.  All  this  was  very  unlikely  to  happen, 
but  it  was  well  to  be  prepared  for  all  possible  con- 
tingencies. 

I  spent  my  time  reading  and  smoking  until  dinner, 
when  a  splendid  meal  with  wine,  cofifee,  and  cigars  was 
served  me.  I  was  evidently  worth  being  taken  good 
care  of. 

Toward  evening  I  heard  voices  in  the  office,  and,  ap- 
plying my  eye  to  the  peephole,  saw  a  black-robed  priest 
in  excited  conversation  with  Acosta.  I  could  not  hear 
all  that  was  said,  but  such  disconnected  words  as: 
"  Americano — prisonero — escondido  "  (hidden),  etc., 
reached  my  ears  with  an  ominous  significance.  Soon 
the  priest  left  and  I  heard  no  more,  but  Lazo,  who 
joined  me  at  supper,  gave  me  an  account  of  how  Padre 
Galipay,  the  self-proclaimed  Filipino  bishop,  had  ac- 
cused the  Governor  of  aiding  me  to  escape.  This  hot- 
headed sacerdote  was  a  well-known  Insurgent  leader, 
and  was  often  seen  on  the  firing  line  by  our  men  en- 
couraging the  Insurgent  soldiers  by  his  presence. 

349 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Alejandrino  had  also  been  to  ask  for  me,  and  accused 
Acosta  of  being  aware  of  my  whereabouts.  "  I  am 
morally  certain  he  is  somewhere  in  the  building,"  he 
had  told  the  Governor,  but  as  I  am  no  longer  respon- 
sible since  I  delivered  him  over  to  you,  I  shall  not 
trouble  myself  to  search  the  rooms.  However,  Sefior 
Acosta,  you  are  no  patriot!  " 

God  bless  Joaquin  Alejandrino! 

Chrisolojo,  Castro,  and  all  of  the  hospital  corps  had 
departed  during  the  day  with  all  the  sick  able  to  travel, 
leaving  Dr.  Martinez,  the  Spaniard,  in  charge  of  the 
fifty  remaining  helpless  cases,  and  a  few  able-bodied 
nurses  to  care  for  them.  Don  Francisco  (he  of  the 
saluting  drill)  had  been  sent  up  to  Abra  as  a  prisoner 
by  order  of  General  Natividad,  being  accused  of  send- 
ing secret  information  to  the  Americans.  Sefior  Rivera 
also  had  accompanied  him  for  having  disobeyed  Gen- 
eral Tifio's  orders  with  regard  to  American  prisoners. 
It  had  become  known  that  he  had  secretly  sent  Lieu- 
tenant Gillmore  fifteen  pesos,  and,  as  punishment,  had 
been  fined  five  thousand  pesos.  Refusing  to  pay  this, 
he  was  arrested  and  sent  into  the  mountains,  together 
with  Don  Francisco.  When  I  asked  Lazo  how  it  had 
leaked  out  that  Rivera  had  given  Gillmore  the  money, 
he  said  that  his  wife  (Lazo's  wife)  had  heard  from  an- 
other woman  with  whom  Tiiio  was  very  intimate,  that 
Arnold  had  confided  to  the  general  the  part  he  had 
taken  in  the  transaction.  "  Singular,"  I  thought  to 
myself,  "  how  that  coincides  with  the  suspicions  I 
formed  some  months  ago,  when  Chrisolojo  told  me 
how  Rivera  had  been  arrested." 

The  long  weary  days  now  passed  monotonously  by, 
during  which  time  I  either  wrote  down  my  diary  since 

350 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

leaving  Bangued,  or  read  a  Spanish  novel.  Acosta  had 
sent  me  shoes  and  clothes,  but  I  still  wore  Alejandrino's 
uniform. 

On  the  evening  of  the  25th  Lazo  came  in  quite  ex- 
cited. Three  American  vessels  had  anchored  down  in 
the  bay  ofif  the  main  mouth  of  the  Abra  River,  and 
were  exchanging  signals  by  means  of  rockets  and  lan- 
terns. Their  searchlights  were  sweeping  the  neighbor- 
ing hills.  I  felt  hopeful  on  hearing  this  news,  but  so 
many  varying  experiences  had  I  had  of  late,  that  it 
failed  to  impress  me  as  it  would  have  done  some 
months  before.  I  slept  soundly  that  night,  and  did  not 
even  dream  of  the  three  vessels. 

Next  morning  I  was  awakened  before  dawn  by  a 
pounding  at  my  door,  followed  by  the  signal,  opened, 
and  Acosta  and  Lazo  entered  hurriedly.  "  Quick," 
cried  the  Governor,  "  you  must  run  across  to  the  hos- 
pital and  hide  there.  The  American  vessels  are  mak- 
ing preparations  to  disembark  troops,  and  Alejandrino 
has  gone  down  to  the  beach  for  a  reconnaissance.  It  is 
likely  that  they  will  return  to  the  town,  loot  the  presi- 
dency, and  discover  you  before  retreating.  Quick, 
before  they  return,  run  across  and  conceal  yourself 
in  the  hospital.  The  doctor  there  will  know  what 
to  do." 

Downstairs  I  went  into  the  street  and  across  the 
plaza  to  the  hospital.  I  was  just  in  time,  for,  as  I  en- 
tered the  gates  I  heard  a  bugle  at  the  other  end  of  the 
plaza.  Alejandrino  had  proven  himself  my  friend,  but 
there  are  times  when  one  does  not  even  wish  to  meet 
his  friends. 

Dr.  Martinez  evidently  expected  me,  for  he  at  once 
wound  a  bandage  about  my  head  and  part  of  my  face, 

351 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

whereupon  he  conducted  me  into  the  old  ward.  In 
case  the  Insurgents  entered  I  was  to  lie  down  on  a  cot 
among  the  sick. 

As  I  entered,  imagine  my  surprise  at  being  suddenly 
embraced  by  Perez.  He  had  escaped  on  the  march  to 
the  river,  preparatory  to  embarking  on  the  rafts,  and 
had  now  returned  to  hide  in  the  hospital.  Manuel  was 
also  there,  but  he  had  purposely  been  left  behind  to  as- 
sist Dr.  Martinez.  Many  of  the  Spanish  officers  also 
remained;  being  friends  of  Chrisolojo,  he  had  re- 
ported them  as  unfit  to  travel. 

Peeping  from  the  balcony's  shell  blinds,  we  saw  the 
soldiers  entering  the  barracks.  They  had  returned 
from  the  beach. 

For  an  hour  or  so  we  sat  conversing,  when,  suddenly, 
a  loud  report  startled  us  all.  Again  it  came,  and  then: 
boom — boom — boom,  as  I  had  once  before  heard  it 
in  Malolos,  but  a  few  miles  farther  off.  Rushing  to  the 
balcony,  we  saw  the  soldiers  flying  helter-skelter  up 
the  street.  An  officer  on  horseback,  Alejandrino,  un- 
doubtedly, was  shouting  orders  to  them,  and,  as  they 
disappeared  from  view  down  an  adjacent  street  leading 
toward  the  beach,  they  had  formed  into  some  sort  of 
military  order.  Twenty-five  of  them — what  did  they 
expect  to  do? 

The  firing  seemed  to  be  some  miles  distant,  but  con- 
tinued. Suddenly  there  came  a  report  that  shook  the 
building,  and  a  shell  hissed  over  the  town,  exploding  in 
the  jungle  between  Bantay  and  Vigan. 

The  scene  that  followed  beggars  description,  to  use 
a  familiar  phrase.  Dying  men  arose  from  their  cots 
and  fell  into  each  other's  arms,  weeping  and  sobbing. 
Spanish  officers  screamed  like  maniacs,  and  an  out- 

352 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

sider  would  have  thought  himself  witnessing  a  scene 
in  a  mad-house. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement,  just  as  a  second  ex- 
plosion seemed  to  rend  the  universe  to  pieces,  and 
again  a  terrific  whirling  and  screeching  overhead 
brought  a  shriek  from  a  hundred  voices  outside,  Lazo 
appeared,  and  almost  forcibly  dragged  me  downstairs 
into  the  street  and  across  to  the  presidency.  Here  in 
a  group  stood  all  the  civil  officials,  both  provincial  and 
municipal,  the  local  president,  the  governor,  the  chief 
justice,  the  tax  collector,  and  the  chief-of-police.  As 
I  arrived,  a  third  shell  was  fired  over  the  town,  causing 
the  governor  and  all  his  councilmen  apparently  to  leap 
several  feet  into  the  air.  The  only  one  who  appeared  at 
all  composed  was  a  very  dark  but  intelHgent-looking 
young  man,  who  held  in  his  hands  a  Spanish-English 
grammar,  from  which  he  was  repeating  the  words, 
"  How  do  you  do,  gentlemen?  "  "  Ah,"  he  exclaimed, 
as  I  appeared,  "  do  I  pronounce  this  correctly?  "  This 
gentleman  then  introduced  himself  as  Sefior  Ignacio 
Villamor,  Representative  of  the  Province  of  Ilocos  Sur. 
He  was  a  brother  to  Colonel  Bias  Villamor,  conse- 
quently an  uncle  to  my  friend  Bernardo. 

"  Madre  de  Dios!  what  shall  I  do?"  exclaimed 
Acosta  to  me.  "  Consider  yourself  in  charge  here."  I 
advised  him  to  provide  some  white  flags  on  long  poles, 
and  call  out  the  municipal  brass  band,  all  of  which  he 
immediately  gave  orders  to  have  done.  Meanwhile, 
I  walked  into  the  middle  of  the  plaza  and  commenced 
searching  for  the  cane  which  I  had  dropped  upon  being 
halted  by  the  sentry  at  the  palace  gates.  Villamor 
joined  me,  and,  when  I  informed  him  of  the  object  of 
my  search,  he  likewise  began  kicking  the  bushes  about. 

353 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  Here  it  is,"  he  exclaimed,  holding  that  precious  piece 
of  bamboo  up  in  his  hand  and  passing  it  to  me. 

Just  then  the  earth  again  seemed  to  split  under  us, 
and  the  limb  of  a  large  tree  growing  within  two  hun- 
dred yards  of  us  was  cut  neatly  off,  the  shell  burying 
itself  six  feet  in  the  ground  without  exploding,  fort- 
unately.   Here  it  was  afterward  dug  out. 

Hundreds  of  the  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren now  flocked  into  the  plaza,  the  report  that  an 
American  was  there  having  spread.  Where  I  was, 
they  thought,  they  would  be  safe,  for  I  could  certainly 
not  be  injured  by  the  shells  of  my  own  countrymen. 

A  discussion  was  now  entered  into  as  to  which  would 
be  the  proper  thing:  to  await  the  Americans  in  town  or 
to  go  down  and  meet  them.  I  advocated  the  latter 
course,  otherwise  the  firing  might  continue  all  day, 
for,  elated  as  I  felt  at  prospective  liberty,  I  admit  I 
should  have  felt  equally  delighted  had  my  countrymen 
ceased  throwing  those  big  shells  over  our  heads.  I 
had  no  doubt  that  they  enjoyed  the  spectacle  at  the 
other  end  of  the  arc  the  flying  shells  described,  but 
at  our  end  the  sensation  was  not  pleasant,  to  say  the 
least,  especially  as  I  had  not  the  same  faith  in  my  own 
immunity  from  danger  as  some  of  the  simple  natives 
had. 

As  we  learned  later  in  the  day,  three  persons  were 
killed.  One  shell  burst  on  the  river-bank,  a  piece  of 
it  mortally  wounding  a  woman  and  a  child.  Two  miles 
distant  another  shell  exploded  in  the  open  rice-fields, 
killing  a  poor  "  taui."  But  the  strangest  part  of  it  all 
is  the  fact  that  this  woman  and  man,  killed  at  different 
points,  two  miles  apart,  were  brother  and  sister!  All 
Vigan  will  tell  you  this. 

354 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

A  quilez  now  appeared,  and  Sefior  Villamor,  Senor 
Singson  (a  representative  local  merchant),  and  myself 
seated  ourselves  inside  this  vehicle.  A  white  flag  flut- 
tered on  top,  and,  the  driver  whipping  up  his  horses, 
we  took  the  road  toward  the  beach  at  a  brisk  pace. 

By  this  time  the  bombardment  had  ceased,  but  we 
met  men  breathlessly  running  who  informed  us  that 
the  Americans  had  landed  and  were  advancing  upon 
the  town. 

Between  Vigan  and  the  sea-shore  the  road  passes 
over  two  low  hills.  As  we  reached  the  summit  of  the 
first  of  these,  Villamor  ordered  the  driver  to  stop,  and 
watched  the  top  of  the  other  eminence,  two  miles  away. 
Nothing  but  the  blue  sky  was  visible,  however.  We 
waited  and  watched,  anxiously,  when,  finally,  a  small 
black  speck  made  its  appearance,  then  another  and  an- 
other, until  quite  a  column  of  these  tiny  figures  were 
observed  descending  from  the  brow  of  the  hill.  The 
black  mass  became  bluish,  the  figures  more  distinct. 
In  front  fluttered  something,  borne  by  one  of  the  fore- 
most of  the  advancing  figures,  the  colors  of  which,  as 
they  became  visible  to  my  straining  eyes,  sent  a  thrill 
through  my  whole  being.  Never  before  had  those  red 
and  white  stripes  impressed  me  with  a  similar  sen- 
sation. 

Our  quilez  now  tore  down  the  hill  at  a  break-neck 
speed,  until  we  brought  to  under  a  tree  not  two  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  advancing  column.  I  could  now 
distinguish  them  as  sailors  and  marines.  On  foot  we 
walked  forward  to  meet  them.  I  feared  my  composure 
would  leave  me  and  that  I  would  presently  make  myself 
ridiculous.  The  foremost  marine  reached  out  his  hand 
to  me  as  I  ran  up,  and  my  first  impulse,  had  I  given 

355 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

way  to  it,  would  have  been  to  throw  my  arms  about  his 
neck  and  weep  on  his  bosom,  but,  with  a  mighty  effort, 
I  contained  myself,  and  nearly  shook  his  hand  ofif.  An 
elderly  officer,  who  appeared  to  be  in  command,  called 
a  halt,  and  to  him  I  now  addressed  myself.  What  I 
said  I  have  but  a  faint  recollection  of,  but  the  officer 
smiled  good-naturedly,  and  shook  hands  with  me  sev- 
eral times. 

At  length  they  seemed  to  understand  me,  and,  tak- 
ing a  cutlass  from  the  nearest  marine,  I  split  open  the 
cane  and  delivered  Gillmore's  letter.  This  caused  some 
excitement,  for  Gillmore's  misfortune  had  evidently 
made  him  a  famous  man.  I  answered  questions  in- 
numerable on  the  spot,  and  asked  as  many  more,  shak- 
ing hands  with  everybody. 

These  were  men  of  the  good  ship  Oregon;  the  officer 
in  command  was  Lieutenant-Commander  McCracken. 
To  him  I  now  introduced  Villamor  and  Singson,  and 
the  former,  as  representative  of  the  people,  surrendered 
the  town  formally.  The  American  officer  treated  them 
with  the  utmost  courtesy. 

At  length,  my  two  native  friends  and  I  re-entered 
the  quilez,  and,  leading  the  way,  returned  to  Vigan,  the 
inhabitants  of  which,  now  headed  by  the  band,  flocked 
out  to  meet  us.  When  we  reached  the  plaza,  the 
marines,  some  two  hundred,  were  lined  up  before  the 
palace.  The  Governor  came  out,  and  I  introduced 
him  to  Commander  McCracken,  upon  whom  he  ex- 
pended just  one-half  of  his  entire  English  vocabulary, 
"  Welcome!  "  which  so  impressed  the  American  officer 
with  his  knowledge  of  our  language  that  he  at  once 
expressed  himself  as  deeply  pleased  to  meet  the  Hon- 
orable Governor.    Acosta  understood  not  a  word,  so 

356 


Marines  from  the  Oregon 

in  despair  he  let  fly  the  other  half  of  his  vocabulary, 
"  Good-by! " 

All  was  silent,  a  hush  had  fallen  over  that  mighty 
throng  in  the  plaza.  Glancing  at  the  palace,  I  com- 
prehended what  was  to  follow.  A  moment  later  I  was 
rushing  wildly  up  the  stairs  to  the  floor  above.  From 
the  balcony  the  Stars  and  Stripes  were  gliding  slowly 
out  and  upward  toward  the  flagstaff  where  a  day  be- 
fore the  Insurgent  banner  had  fluttered,  while  down 
below  in  the  plaza  the  notes  of  the  American  bugles 
arose. 

I  arrived  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  The  flag  was 
half  way  up,  and  the  next  moment  I  had  a  hold  on  the 
halyard  as  it  dropped  from  the  hands  of  the  sailor  who 
stood  on  the  railing. 

Thus  I  assisted  in  raising  the  American  colors  over 
Vigan. 


357 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

IN  MANILA  AGAIN 

The  Oregon — Trip  to  Manila — General  Otis — Admiral  Watson — 
Return  to  Vigan  on  the  Newark — The  attack  on  Vigan — Gen- 
eral Young — Ramon  Rey  turns  up  again — Another  attack — A 
reconnoissance  of  La  Bocana — The  Spaniards  arrive  from 
Abra — Despatch  from  Colonel  Hare — Arresting  suspects — 
Antonio  Singson — The  part  he  took  in  the  night  attack — His 
fate — Meeting  old  companions — Outrages — Dr.  Chrisolojo's 
mother — Chrisolojo  and  Castro  return  and  give  themselves  up 
— Rumors  of  the  rescue. 

TO  this  day  the  natives  of  Vigan  speak  of  Com- 
mander McCracken  and  Colonel  Parker,  the 
latter  an  army  officer  who  accompanied  the 
landing  party,  as  "  los  buenos,"  with  other  flattering 
adjectives.  During  their  short  stay  they  managed  to 
make  themselves  very  much  liked  by  the  people  on  ac- 
count of  their  general  courteousness,  respect  for  the 
rights  of  the  conquered,  and  the  absence  of  that  arro- 
gance rather  common  to  military  officials.  As  I  was 
afterward  told  by  one  who  had  been,  and  probably  still 
is,  a  red-hot  Insurgent,  in  sentiment  at  least,  if  all 
American  officers  were  like  these  two  representatives 
of  the  army  and  navy  who  first  governed  Vigan,  there 
would  now  be  fewer  Insurgents  in  the  hills.  My  own 
acquaintance  with  these  two  gentlemen,  however, 
amounted  unfortunately  to  but  two  hours,  for,  after 
dinner,  to  which  we  had  been  invited  by  Acosta,  I 
went  down  to  the  landing,  to  board  the  Oregon. 

358 


In  Manila  Again 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  sensation  I  experienced, 
when,  on  the  quilez  making  a  turn  around  a  sand  dune, 
the  mighty  sea  suddenly  burst  into  view,  dark  blue, 
calm,  apparently  slumbering,  and  there,  at  least  two 
miles  out,  that  big  white  battle-ship,  which  in  the  morn- 
ing had  hurled  those  frightful  thunder-claps,  now  inno- 
cently glistening  in  the  rays  of  the  sun.  What  memo- 
ries were  awakened  in  me!  I  had  seen  this  proud  ship 
launched  in  my  native  city  when  yet  a  mere  school-boy. 
Almost  within  view  of  the  spot  where  her  majestic  form 
had  first  gradually  assumed  shape  I  had  spent  my  child- 
hood's days,  but  little  did  I  then  dream,  as  I  saw  her 
beams  and  plates  skilfully  riveted  together,  that  some 
day  she  would  be  the  means  of  saving  me  from  the 
hands  of  Filipino  Insurgents. 

My  reception  by  Captain  Wilde  and  his  officers  will 
linger  with  me  as  a  pleasant  memory  for  many  years 
to  come.  Considering  that  I  was  an  utter  stranger 
to  them,  I  had  no  right  to  expect  it,  and,  therefore,  I 
doubly  appreciate  it. 

It  took  me  some  time  fully  to  realize  that  I  was  not 
dreaming;  such  kindness  and  the  number  of  new 
American  faces  about  me  were  at  first  bewildering. 
The  fact  that  I  had  actually  seen  and  spoken  to  Gill- 
more  and  his  men  but  nine  days  previously,  made  me 
again  the  object  of  a  thousand  questions,  but  I,  too,  was 
"  loaded  to  the  guards  "  with  queries  of  all  descrip- 
tions. Dewey,  I  now  learned,  had  gone  home,  Otis 
was  still  in  command,  American  soldiers  had  not  been 
slaughtered  by  thousands,  the  volunteers  had  departed, 
and  Ramon  Rey  had  escaped  with  the  two  letters — all 
this  was  great  news  to  me.  Indeed,  so  stunned  was  I 
by  all  this,  that,  had  they  told  me  that  the  Salvation 

359 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

Army  had  come  to  help  fight  the  Insurgents,  I  would 
probably  have  accepted  that  with  the  rest. 

During  the  evening  I  gave  Captain  Wilde  an  ex- 
planation of  the  situation  in  Abra.  Undoubtedly  Ale- 
jandrino  had  fallen  back  with  his  fifty  men  to  Bangued, 
thus  increasing  the  garrison  there  to  a  force  of  seventy 
now  under  command  of  General  Natividad,  Alejan- 
drino  being  but  second  in  command.  Against  this 
force  the  Spanish  prisoners  would  never  rise,  of  that 
I  felt  assured,  but  a  rescue  party  might  save  them. 
Unfortunately  the  Oregon  had  not  the  men  to  spare 
for  such  an  expedition,  Tifio  with  several  hundred 
men  was  fifty  miles  down  the  coast.  He  might  reach 
Abra  by  means  of  Tangadan,  a  pass  cutting  up  into 
the  mountains  at  Narbacan,  twenty  miles  below  Vigan. 
General  Young  was  driving  Tifio  up  toward  this  pass. 
A  small  force  might  cut  Tifio's  retreat  off,  but  it  must 
be  done  quickly,  to  do  the  prisoners  any  good.  Cap- 
tain Wilde  insisted  that  I  should  go  down  to  Manila 
the  following  morning  to  explain  the  situation  to  Gen- 
eral Otis,  who,  he  said,  would  undoubtedly  despatch 
the  required  force  at  once. 

The  Oregon  was  accompanied  by  two  smaller  ves- 
sels, gun-boats,  the  Callao  and  Samar.  On  the  latter 
of  these  two  I  embarked  the  following  morning,  and 
soon  she  was  heading  for  Manila  at  a  ten-knot  speed. 

At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  November 
29th  we  dropped  anchor  ofi  Cavite.  I  did  not  wake 
up  before  daylight,  just  as  the  young  commander,  En- 
sign Mustin,  returned  from  the  Baltimore,  the  flag- 
ship, where  he  had  been  to  report  to  Admiral  Watson. 

"  I  have  orders,"  he  informed  me,  "  to  weigh  anchor 
at  once  and  go  over  to  Manila,  as  the  Admiral  wishes 

360 


In  Manila  Again 

me  to  lose  no  time  in  presenting  you  to  General 
Otis." 

Half  an  hour  later  we  were  steaming  over  toward 
the  mouth  of  the  Pasig,  and  before  nine  o'clock  were 
moored  alongside  the  quay  before  the  office  of  the  Cap- 
tain of  the  Port.  Almost  immediately  the  ensign  and 
myself  were  speeding  over  the  uneven  streets  of  Manila 
toward  the  Walled  City  in  a  quilez,  and  at  ten  o'clock 
we  presented  ourselves  at  the  Military  Governor's 
office.  We  were  at  once  admitted,  and  for  the  first 
time  I  saw  the  commander-in-chief  of  our  army  in  the 
Philippines,  General  Elwell  S.  Otis.  Mr.  Mustin  at 
once  presented  Captain  Wilde's  report,  Lieutenant 
Gillmore's  cipher  message,  and  introduced  me  as  the 
bearer  of  the  latter.  To  my  surprise  General  Otis  knew 
me  at  once  by  name.  "  You  are  one  of  the  very  first 
taken,"  he  exclaimed,  smilingly,  "  and  we  have  been 
on  your  track  for  a  long  time.  What  is  this?"  As 
he  said  this,  he  picked  up  the  cipher  message.  "  A 
letter  from  Lieutenant  Gillmore,"  explained  Mr.  Mus- 
tin. "  Oh !  "  said  the  General  (his  only  comment),  lay- 
ing the  paper  down  again  without  further  notice. 

The  interview  lasted  about  fifteen  minutes,  but  not 
once  during  that  time  was  I  asked  how  my  late  com- 
panions had  fared  or  about  the  state  of  their  health. 
Not  once  did  the  General  mention  either  Gillmore's  or 
anyone  else's  name  connected  with  the  party;  in  fact 
he  changed  the  subject  by  speaking  of  the  necessity 
of  sending  provisions  and  supplies  to  General  Young. 
At  length  the  ensign  stated  that  both  Captain  Wilde 
and  Admiral  Watson  considered  it  advisable  to  act  at 
once  on  the  information  I  had  brought,  and  to  employ 
me  as  guide. 

361 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  real  necessity  for  that,"  answered 
the  general;  "  we  can  always  find  native  guides." 

At  last  we  departed  with  report  and  message,  the 
latter  still  unread  by  General  Otis.  I  had  been  told 
to  call  again  on  the  day  following. 

I  did  "  call  again  "  the  next  day,  and  also  the  day 
after.  Meanwhile  Admiral  Watson  had  sent  notice 
ashore,  through  the  Captain  of  the  Port,  that  I  might 
return  at  once  on  a  vessel  leaving  for  Vigan,  the  gun- 
boat Wheeling,  I  believe  it  was.  I  told  General  Otis 
of  this,  but  all  he  said  was,  "  Oh,  that's  a  navy  vessel; 
better  wait  for  an  army  vessel." 

At  length,  on  December  3d,  General  Schwan  gave 
me  a  letter  to  General  Young,  authorizing  him  to  em- 
ploy me  as  guide  and  interpreter.  I  was  told  to  report 
each  day  until  an  army  vessel  left  for  Vigan,  but  that 
evening  I  quietly  went  over  to  Cavite  and  on  board 
the  Newark,  without  notifying  the  military  authorities. 

It  was  then  I  had  an  interview  with  the  Admiral,  who 
sent  for  me,  and  for  some  time  he  plied  me  with  ques- 
tions regarding  the  prisoners,  as  to  their  health,  their 
treatment,  etc.  He  evidently  took  a  deep  interest  in 
their  fate. 

The  same  evening  I  was  pleasantly  surprised  to  meet 
Captain  Wilde  on  board  the  Newark;  he  had  just 
come  down  with  the  sick  Spaniards.  The  marines  had 
been  relieved  by  two  companies  from  San  Fabian,  of 
the  Thirty-third  Regiment,  leaving  Colonel  Parker  in 
command.  The  Spaniards  had  sent  to  Captain  Wilde 
and  his  officers  a  warm  letter  of  thanks  for  the  kindness 
received  at  their  hands. 

Referring  to  my  diary,  I  see  that  it  was  the  morn- 
ing of  December  5th  that  the  Newark  dropped  anchor 

362 


In  Manila  Again 

off  Pandan,  the  harbor  of  Vigan,  where  we  found  the 
Princeton,  WheeHng,  and  Callao.  Lieutenant-Com- 
mander Knox,  of  the  Princeton,  came  aboard,  and,  as 
he  was  to  send  a  boat  ashore  later  on,  I  accompanied 
him  on  board  his  vessel,  after  first  thanking  Captain 
McCalla  of  the  Newark  for  his  great  courtesy  shown 
me  on  the  way  up. 

While  at  breakfast  Commander  Knox  imparted  to 
me  that  there  had  been  no  news  from  Vigan  for  several 
days,  and  it  was  feared  that  the  Insurgents  had  cut  off 
communications  from  the  town  to  the  beach.  The 
evening  before,  an  army  officer.  Colonel  Hayes,  of  the 
Thirty-first,  had  gone  up  unattended,  and  had  not  been 
heard  from  since. 

After  breakfast  I  was  put  ashore.  I  hired  a  horse 
from  a  native  in  the  village,  and,  accompanied  by  the 
owner  on  foot,  started  up  the  road  toward  Vigan. 
About  half  way  I  was  met  by  about  half  a  company  of 
soldiers,  headed  by  an  officer  who  proved  to  be  Colonel 
Hayes,  who  had  gone  up  the  night  before.  He  also 
had  been  seeking  General  Young,  without  finding  him, 
the  latter  not  having  arrived  as  yet  in  Vigan. 

The  object  of  this  force  coming  down  to  the  beach 
was  to  obtain  medical  assistance  and  supplies,  as  a  num- 
ber of  their  men  had  been  wounded  the  day  before  in 
an  attack  by  the  Insurgents,  who  had  entered  the  town 
and  fired  at  them  from  the  houses.  Eight  Americans 
had  been  killed  and  several  wounded,  whereas  the  In- 
surgents had  left  over  fifty  of  their  dead  behind.  How- 
ever, as  I  was  enabled  to  find  out  myself  later  on,  a 
fair  percentage  of  these  were  non-combatants  that  our 
soldiers  had  killed  by  firing  into  the  bamboo  huts. 
There  were  in  the  town,  at  the  time,  about  thirty  Span- 

363 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

iards,  who  had  escaped  from  Bangued.  As  the  Insur- 
gents fell,  these  picked  up  the  Remingtons  and  fought 
with  our  men,  and  I  feel  morally  certain  that  to  them 
it  made  no  difference,  whether  men,  women,  or  chil- 
dren— they  simply  thirsted  to  kill  FiHpinos,  and  age 
or  sex  was  of  no  importance.  God  have  mercy  on  us 
the  day  we  need  the  assistance  of  Spanish  soldiers  in 
fighting  our  battles. 

I  returned  to  the  beach  with  Colonel  Hayes  and  his 
detachment.  A  couple  of  companies  of  marines  were 
landed  from  the  Newark,  and  with  these  as  reinforce- 
ments we  returned  to  Vigan.  To  our  surprise  General 
Young  had  just  arrived  with  two  companies  of  cavalry. 
I  presented  myself  to  him  with  my  letter  from  General 
Schwan,  and  was  at  once  installed  as  official  guide  and 
interpreter. 

But  a  great  surprise  awaited  me.  Whom  should  I 
meet  as  guide  to  General  Young  but  our  old  friend 
Ramon  Rey.  He  received  me  with  the  effusion  of  a 
long-lost  father.  It  seems  that  for  his  kindness  to 
us  prisoners  he  had  received  this  appointment  at  $50 
a  month.  He  told  me  in  detail  of  how  he  had  hid- 
den the  two  letters  in  the  lining  of  his  clothes,  and, 
feigning  desperate  illness,  had  been  left  behind  at  San 
Isidro.  He  had  delivered  the  two  letters  to  General 
Lawton  himself,  but  first  allowed  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent to  copy  them.  The  latter  made  an  attempt 
to  cable  them  to  his  paper,  the  Chicago  Record,  but 
they  fell  under  the  censorship  of  General  Otis,  and  were 
suppressed. 

Coming  up  the  coast,  General  Young  had  driven 
Tiiio  and  Aguinaldo  up  before  him,  the  latter  switching 
into  the  mountains  at  Tagudin,  the  former  at  the  pass 

364 


In  Manila  Again 

of  Tangadan.  Here  Tino  and  Villamor  had  endeav- 
ored to  hold  the  pass,  but,  after  a  day's  fighting,  were 
driven  back  to  Bangued,  General  Young  sending  Colo- 
nel Hare  and  two  companies  of  the  Thirty-third  to  fol- 
low them.  As  I  learned  later,  Villamor  had  been  so 
seriously  wounded  here  that  he  had  not  taken  the 
field  again.  General  Young  himself  had  continued  on 
to  Vigan. 

Being  instructed  to  do  so,  I  interviewed  several  of 
the  Spanish  prisoners,  many  of  whom  I  recognized, 
and  learned  that  the  American  prisoners  had  been  in 
Bangued  as  late  as  forty-eight  hours  previous,  but  that 
they  now  numbered  twenty-five,  having  been  joined  by 
thirteen  others.  Arnold  had  joined  them  as  a  prisoner 
and  refused  to  leave  the  jail.  My  clothes  had  never 
been  found,  and  two  days  after  my  escape  the  Ameri- 
can prisoners  had  all  been  closely  confined. 

Late  that  night  the  Insurgents  fired  upon  the  town 
from  across  the  river,  and  for  ten  minutes  nothing 
could  be  heard  but  the  rattle  of  fire-arms.  Next  morn- 
ing I  inquired  about  the  casualties,  but  nobody  had 
been  hurt,  which  surprised  me  vastly,  since  the  noise 
had  led  me  to  believe  it  almost  a  pitched  battle. 

December  6th,  my  diary  tells  me,  was  the  date  on 
which  I  accompanied  Captain  Chase  with  a  company 
of  cavalry  to  make  a  reconnaissance  of  La  Bocana,  and 
clear  the  country  between  of  Insurgents  who  were  sup- 
posed to  be  lurking  about  in  bands.  Provisions  were 
to  be  sent  up  by  rafts  next  day  to  Colonel  Hare,  who 
was  presumably  at  Bangued,  but  first  the  pass  and  river 
must  be  cleared  of  the  enemy. 

A  short  distance  from  town  we  saw  the  enemy  be- 
hind some  bushes,  and  charged  him.    On  we  dashed, 

365 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

recklessly,  regardless  of  consequences.  "  Hurrah  for 
the  Stars  and  Stripes !  and  down  with  Aguinaldo ! " 
On  we  flew  like  a  mighty  thunder-cloud  one  hundred 
strong.  Woe  unto  the  enemy,  and  had  the  Insurgent 
(there  was  but  one)  not  been  already  very  much  dead 
we  would  either  have  taken  him  prisoner  or  annihilated 
him.  Poor  fellow,  a  mere  boy,  he  lay  there  literally 
riddled  by  bullets.  The  soldiers  laughed  and  called 
him  a  "  goo-goo,"  whatever  that  may  be,  but  I  failed 
to  see  the  joke. 

Later  on  we  charged  the  enemy  again,  and  found 
him  to  consist  of  a  number  of  old  women  and  children 
raking  about  the  mud  of  a  stagnant  pool  for  fish.  Our 
people  would  have  it  that  they  were  hiding  arms  in 
the  mud,  and  made  the  poor  creatures  break  up  the 
chain  they  had  formed  to  drive  the  fish  to  one  end  of 
the  pool.  Of  course  no  arms  were  found,  but  the  day's 
fishing  was  spoiled,  and  I  only  hope  their  supper  did 
not  depend  upon  it.  Our  men  had  not  seen  this  style 
of  fishing  before,  consequently  didn't  understand  it  nor 
the  natives,  and  they  in  their  turn  did  not  comprehend 
us.    Nor  do  I  think  they  ever  will. 

We  reconnoitred  all  day,  but  found  no  real  live  In- 
surgents; they  were  all  very  much  absent.  We  went 
as  far  up  the  pass  as  horses  could  go,  but  at  sunset 
returned  to  Vigan,  to  report  to  the  General  that  the 
pass  was  clear. 

It  now  became  necessary  to  procure  rafts,  and  for 
this  purpose  I  left  town  that  night  for  a  small  village 
on  the  main  Abra  River,  to  find  the  raftsmen.  As  no 
native  could  be  persuaded  to  go  alone,  being  afraid  to 
pass  the  outposts  on  returning,  and  as  no  other  Ameri- 
can knew  where  the  raftsmen  were  to  be  found,  this 

366 


In  Manila  Again 

task  naturally  fell  to  me.  I  reached  the  barrio  shortly 
before  midnight  and  roused  the  raftsmen,  when  to  my 
astonishment  from  each  hut  rushed  one  or  more  Span- 
ish officers.  They  were  resting  here  for  the  night,  not 
daring  to  approach  the  outposts  before  morning.  I 
knew  most  of  them,  and,  drawing  me  inside  one  of  the 
huts,  one  of  the  officers  showed  me  a  small  scrap  of 
paper,  on  which  was  written: 

"  General  Young,  Vigan. 

"  Have  left  Bangued  and  am  pushing  on  after  the 
American  prisoners,  who  are  but  a  day's  march  ahead. 

"  Hare." 

This,  I  explained  to  the  Spaniard,  was  an  important 
despatch,  and  he  at  once  gave  it  to  me  to  deliver.  We 
returned  to  Vigan,  the  Spaniards  numbering  over 
twenty,  almost  all  officers. 

To  approach  the  outposts  was  a  ticklish  affair  even 
for  an  American,  the  Newark's  marines  having  a  habit 
of  first  firing  and  halting  afterward.  Before  reaching 
the  town  we  could  hear  the  pop-pop-pop  of  their  rifles 
almost  continuously.  It  helped  to  pass  away  the  lonely 
hours  of  the  night,  firing  occasionally  at  shadows,  real 
or  fancied,  but  many  a  poor  native  in  his  bamboo  hut 
suffered  for  it. 

Cautiously  we  approached  the  outposts,  the  Span- 
iards far  in  the  rear,  as  I  feared  they  might  be  taken 
for  Insurgent  soldiers  in  a  body.  Luckily  I  was  halted 
first,  and  ten  minutes  later  the  Spaniards  were  safely 
housed  in  the  college  building.  General  Young  was 
delighted  to  receive  word  from  Hare.  That  he  was  so 
hot  on  the  prisoners'  trail  was  gratifying. 

367 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

My  chief  ambition  now  was  either  to  arrest  or  at 
least  cause  the  arrest  of  some  Insurgent.  As  the 
young  officer  at  Meycauayan  had  done  to  me,  placing 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  saying:  "  I  arrest  you!  "  I 
now  burned  to  do  to  some  Filipino — the  spirit  of  retali- 
ation was  rampant  in  me.  I  was  to  be  fully  gratified 
in  this  respect. 

We  were  informed  by  a  Spaniard  that  a  very  fire- 
eater  of  an  Insurgent,  an  officer,  was  hidden  in  a 
certain  house  in  town.  With  five  men  I  was  sent  to 
capture  him,  and  my  feelings  were  those  of  intense  de- 
light. Now  I  shall  have  my  revenge,  I  thought.  We 
arrived  at  the  house,  and  while  four  men  were  posted 
so  as  to  prevent  any  escape,  the  corporal  and  I  en- 
tered, the  Spaniard  hiding  behind  an  adjacent  corner. 
The  man  was  certainly  there,  but  I  couldn't  say  if  he 
was  an  Insurgent  or  not.  I  soon  found  that  arresting 
a  man  was  not  always  exactly  what  I  thought  it  would 
be.  One  old  and  gray-haired  woman  fell  on  her  knees 
and  begged  us  to  save  her  son.  Another,  a  mere  girl, 
clung  to  the  prisoner,  and  could  with  great  difficulty 
be  separated  from  him.  The  two  women  followed  us 
to  the  prison,  where  our  man  was  confined. 

Later  on  I  made  several  more  captures  of  this  nature, 
to  satisfy  the  spite  of  some  lazy  cazador  who  gave  the 
information  in  order  to  pay  off  a  former  grudge  for  be- 
ing made  to  work  for  board  and  lodging.  Fortunately 
Captain  Chase  released  such  prisoners  immediately,  un- 
less there  was  proof  conclusive  of  guilt. 

One  day,  however,  a  real  bona-fide  Insurgent  officer 
was  captured  while  hiding  in  the  home  of  his  family. 
Some  native  had  given  the  information  and  then  dis- 
appeared, as  did  all  such  traitors;  they  had  not,  even 

368 


In  Manila  Again 

with  the  support  of  armed  Americans,  the  courage  to 
face  those  whom  they  denounced.  When  called  upon 
to  act  as  interpreter  between  the  provost-marshal  and 
this  officer,  we  recognized  each  other  immediately.  He 
was  a  friend  of  Bernardo  Villamor,  and  we  had  met 
occasionally  in  the  hospital  when  he  had  been  there  to 
visit  his  friend.  Although  taken  in  civilian  clothes,  he 
did  not  deny  being  an  Insurgent. 

There  is,  or  was,  a  certain  class  of  Filipino  officers 
who  attained  the  rank  of  lieutenant  and  sometimes 
even  a  captaincy,  not  from  any  personal  merit,  but  for 
the  influence  their  family  possessed.  They  never  took 
to  the  field  and  were  considered  supernumeraries,  and 
upon  the  approach  of  the  Americans  would  crawl  into 
holes  to  hide,  objects  of  contempt  to  both  Americans 
and  Filipinos. 

At  first  I  took  the  above-mentioned  officer  for  one 
of  these;  he  was  a  mere  boy  of  eighteen  and  held  the 
rank  of  second  lieutenant.  Villamor  had  introduced 
him  to  me  as  Antonio  Singson,  a  native  of  Vigan,  and 
a  companion  of  college  days  in  Manila. 

I  was  now  instructed  by  the  provost-marshal  to 
represent  to  the  young  man  that  as  he  had  been  taken 
within  our  lines  in  civilian  clothes  we  had  every  right 
to  treat  him  as  a  spy,  but  if  he  would  reveal  the  hiding- 
place  of  any  of  his  associates  he  might  thereby  gain 
his  liberty.  I  noticed  a  barely  perceptible  raising  of 
the  upper  lip  as  he  replied  that  he  knew  of  none  of 
his  comrades  in  hiding,  and  if  he  did  he  would  refuse  to 
tell  anyhow.  His  words  were  quiet  but  determined, 
and  I  could  not  but  admire  the  boy's  spirit. 

About  this  time  it  was  reported  that  the  Insurgent 
Captain  Reyes,  with  about  one  hundred  followers,  was 

369 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

dose  by  in  the  mountains,  and  Singson  was  sent  on 
parole  to  inform  Reyes  that  if  he  would  surrender  his 
arms,  he  and  his  men  might  return  to  their  homes  un- 
molested. Singson  was  gone  two  days,  at  the  end  of 
which  time  he  returned  with  the  answer  from  Reyes 
that  he  could  not  surrender  without  Aguinaldo's  per- 
mission. 

"  Tell  him,"  said  the  American  officer,  "  that  Reyes 
is  only  a  mouthful  to  us  anyhow,  and  if  he  wants  to 
join  the  Insurgents  again  he  can  do  so.  We  will  find 
both  him  and  Reyes  when  we  want  them." 

Before  I  had  time  to  interpret  this,  Singson  asked 
me,  "  Am  I  still  on  parole?  "  "  I  am  instructed  to  in- 
form you  that  you  are  at  liberty  to  go  where  you 
please,"  was  all  I  answered,  and  he  left  us. 

Several  days  after  this  I  was  visiting  a  friend,  a  Sefior 
Reyes  (and  cousin  to  the  Captain  Reyes  mentioned 
above),  who  gave  me  an  account  of  the  attack  on  the 
morning  of  the  4th,  which  caused  me  to  open  my  eyes 
in  amazement.  The  position  of  Sefior  Reyes's  house 
in  Vigan  enabled  him  to  witness  all. 

"  It  was  about  two  in  the  morning,"  began  Reyes, 
"  when  a  slight  noise  outside  my  window  attracted  my 
attention,  as  of  the  murmur  of  voices.  I  fell  asleep 
again,  but  was  again  awakened  at  about  four  by  voices 
in  the  bamboo  building  behind  the  hospital,  which  we 
use  as  a  theatre.  I  knew  at  once  what  it  meant. 
Shortly  before  daylight  I  heard  a  shot  fired,  followed 
by  several  more,  then  commenced  a  general  fusillade. 
The  Americans  rushed  into  the  middle  of  the  plaza, 
making  use  of  the  monument  and  stone  pillars  as 
breastworks.  I  saw  a  company  of  Filipinos  charge  up 
the  street  past  my  window  toward  the  plaza.    Others 

370 


In  Manila  Again 

had  entered  the  hospital,  from  where  they  fired  on  the 
Americans.  Those  that  advanced  from  the  street  fired 
several  volleys  and  then  retreated.  They  met  others 
coming  up  to  reinforce  them,  just  under  my  window. 
*  Why  do  you  run? '  cried  the  new  arrivals.  *  We 
have  no  more  ammunition,'  they  shouted  in  return. 
By  this  time  it  was  almost  broad  daylight.  At  the  head 
of  this  company  marched  Captain  Ortega,  and  beside 
him  his  brother,  Lieutenant  Ortega,  and  Lieutenant 
Singson.  'Viva!  On,  my  men!  on,  my  valientes!' 
cried  the  captain,  waving  his  sword;  but  barely  had 
he  uttered  these  words,  when  he  fell  into  his  brother's 
arms.  A  second  volley  from  the  Americans,  and  the 
two  brothers  were  lying  side  by  side,  dead.  Here  they 
were  found  later  by  the  Americans.  The  Filipinos  were 
repulsed  with  heavy  loss,  but  a  second  time  they  ad- 
vanced, being  led  by  their  only  remaining  officer,  An- 
tonio Singson,  whom  I  expected  to  see  fall  any  mo- 
ment under  the  murderous  fire  of  the  Americans.  The 
Filipinos  now  evidently  had  used  up  all  their  ammu- 
nition, and  young  Singson  ordered  a  charge  with- 
bayonets,  but  almost  every  man  had  been  struck  and 
they  turned  and  ran.  Antonio  followed,  but  stumbled 
and  fell,  and  the  next  moment  the  Americans,  now 
charging  after  the  fleeing  Insurgents,  ran  over  his 
prostrate  body.  I  thought  he  had  been  killed.  The 
Filipinos  in  the  hospital  were  also  driven  out,  retreat- 
ing toward  the  river,  the  Americans  firing  at  them  as 
they  ran." 

As  this  story  was  told  me  in  confidence,  I  naturally 
enough  never  told  of  Singson's  true  character,  whom 
the  American  officers  considered  a  mere  boy,  infatu- 
ated by  a  lieutenant's  gilt  buttons  and  shoulder-straps. 

371 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

I  never  told  the  young  man  what  Reyes  had  confided 
to  me,  but  my  admiration  for  him  increased  as  I  learned 
to  know  more  of  him.  We  even  became  intimate 
friends  afterward,  and  he  was  to  have  accompanied  me 
on  my  return  to  Manila,  but  sickness  prevented. 

A  month  later,  when  I  once  more  visited  Vigan,  An- 
tonio was  gone.  At  first,  his  brother,  with  whom  I 
also  was  on  intimate  terms,  gave  evasive  answers  to 
my  questions  about  him,  until  one  day  when  together 
alone,  and  I  once  more  expressed  my  surprise  at  An- 
tonio's absence,  he  burst  out  with  some  bitterness: 
"  He  has  joined  Tifio  again.  The  American  officers 
could  not  leave  him  here  in  peace,  and  constantly  kept 
summoning  him  in  order  to  obtain  information  of  his 
former  comrades.  Why  is  it  that  you  Americans  abhor 
one  of  your  own  people  who  turns  traitor,  and  call  a 
Filipino  who  joins  you  against  his  own,  '  mucho 
bueno  '  ?  Antonio  would  not  turn  traitor,  so  to  avoid 
further  annoyance  he  joined  his  former  comrades  in 
arms  again." 

The  last  I  heard  of  this  young  man  was  a  report 
his  brother  had  received  from  captured  prisoners  and 
which  he  later  confided  to  me,  that  he  had  fallen  in  a 
skirmish  pierced  by  a  Krag  bullet.  It  was  a  hero's 
death!  An  obscure  one,  perhaps,  but  a  hero  never- 
theless. 

Again  I  refer  to  my  diary.  On  December  7th  sev- 
eral hundred  Spaniards  entered  town.  They  said  they 
had  escaped,  but  let  us  rather  say,  they  were  "  unoffi- 
cially released,"  since  Tifio  had  ordered  them  on  un- 
guarded. I  was  talking  with  several  old  acquaintances, 
when  who  should  run  up  but  Pedro  and  Antonio. 
"Ah,  Alberto!    Alberto!  mi  amigo!  "  they  cried,  but 

Z7^ 


In  Manila  Again 

Alberto  simply  turned  on  his  heel  and  showed  his  back 
to  them.  They  seemed  to  understand  and  slunk  away. 
I  did  not  even  ask  what  had  become  of  the  boy  Guil- 
lermo,  nor  do  I  to  this  day  know. 

All  these  prisoners  were  shipped  down  to  Manila  by 
steamer,  not  any  too  soon,  for  together  with  some 
of  our  own  men  they  commenced  to  loot  the  Chinese 
stores.  I  got  a  "  Chino  "  to  point  me  out  one  of  the 
culprits,  and  he  was  at  once  arrested. 

"  Tell  the  Spanish  senior  officer  this  and  let  him  fix 
the  punishment,"  said  Captain  Chase,  and  I  did  so. 

The  senior  Spanish  officer's  reply  was,  "  Oh,  well, 
if  he  has  only  robbed  the  Chinos,  there's  no  harm 
done;  let  him  go;  they  are  not  Christians." 

"  What!  "  cried  the  provost-marshal,  in  a  rage,  "  only 
Chinos!  All  right,  I'll  fix  them."  They  were  fixed. 
Every  Spaniard  was  at  once  confined  in  the  church  un- 
til the  transports  were  ready  to  receive  them,  and  the 
Spanish  comandante  was  shown  but  scant  courtesy 
after  that. 

Several  of  the  liberated  Spanish  prisoners  reported 
that  three  of  the  American  prisoners  had  escaped,  met 
Colonel  Hare  at  Bangued,  and  gone  on  with  the  res- 
cuing party  as  guides.  Instinctively  I  felt  that  these 
three  must  be  O'Brien,  Bruce,  and  Edwards,  and  this 
surmise  proved  quite  correct.  They  had  been  con- 
stant companions,  and  not  the  sort  to  let  any  oppor- 
tunity for  an  escape  pass.  They  could  have  come  down 
to  Vigan  with  the  Spaniards,  but  instead  they  had 
pressed  on  with  the  pursuers  to  help  rescue  their  less 
fortunate  comrades.    But  I  come  to  their  story  anon. 

It  was  also  my  duty  to  regulate  the  price  at  which 
the  marketwomen  sold  their  eggs  and  cigars  to  the 

373 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

soldiers,  and  present  their  complaints  when  the  latter 
robbed  or  cheated  them,  which  was  of  no  infrequent 
occurrence.  Our  soldiers  are  no  better  than  those 
;|Df  other  nations  in  this  respect;  a  great  many  of 
them  stole,  cheated,  and  even  robbed  whenever  an 
opportunity  presented  itself.  The  officers  were  ever 
ready  to  listen  to  complaints,  but  a  few  days  in  the 
guard-house  did  not  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of 
the  bullies,  and  when  they  came  out  they  were  ready  to 
repeat  their  assaults  on  helpless  natives.  Mentally  I 
compared  our  men  to  the  Tagalog  soldiers  who  gar- 
risoned Bangued,  and  drew  my  conclusions  in  favor  of 
the  latter.  Never  had  I  seen  such  scenes  before. 
Some  looted  the  Chinese,  others  assaulted  women,  and 
acts  of  violence  were  constantly  reported.  I  am  an 
American,  and  love  my  country,  but  that  does  not 
make  me  blind  to  such  outrages.  Later  on,  however, 
punishment  became  more  severe  and  such  atrocities 
fewer,  but  they  never  entirely  ceased.  Natives  were 
afraid  to  complain  for  fear  of  further  violence  when 
the  offender  would  be  released  from  confinement. 
Besides,  our  officers  never  would  receive  the  testimony 
of  natives  against  the  soldiers,  and  this  they  soon 
learned.  I  have  heard  natives  of  the  upper  class  com- 
plain very  bitterly  of  this. 

I  was  walking  about  the  plaza  one  morning,  watch- 
ing the  women  selling  their  wares.  One  had  placed 
a  table  underneath  the  trees,  and  was  displaying  a 
stock  of  cigars,  cakes,  lemonades,  fruits,  etc.  I  looked, 
the  old  lady  seemed  so  familiar.  Yes,  I  knew  her.  It 
was  Chrisolojo's  mother.  I  felt  a  strange  sensation  in 
my  throat  on  seeing  the  venerable  lady  obliged  to  earn 
a  precarious  living  in  this  manner,  she  who  had  been 

374 


In  Manila  Again 

almost  as  a  mother  to  me.  The  tears  rolled  down  her 
wrinkled  cheeks  as  I  reached  her  my  hand.  We  had 
all  called  her  "  Mamma  "  in  the  hospital,  and  I  did  so 
now.  ^ 

"  And  where  is  Victorino?  "  I  asked.  For  some 
time  she  could  not  reply,  but  at  last  she  sobbed:  "  God 
knows — in  the  mountains,  somewhere  with  Tirio.  I 
fear  for  my  son,  so  many  of  our  people  die  before  those 
deadly  American  bullets."  I  tried  to  comfort  her. 
Castro  also  was  "  up  there,"  she  told  me;  she  had  not 
heard  of  them  since  two  days  before  the  bombardment. 
The  seiiora  was  up  in  Bangued,  but  was  likewise  ig- 
norant of  her  husband's  whereabouts.  In  the  evening 
I  accompanied  the  old  lady  to  her  home  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town.  Their  house  was  small  and  poor. 
Here  I  found  Perico,  the  young  nurse,  and  his  father, 
a  brother  to  Victorino  Chrisolojo,  both  unable  to  leave 
the  house,  as  they  had  no  other  clothes  but  of  the  blue 
and  white  striped  pattern,  the  uniform  of  the  Insur- 
gents, and  in  these  garments  they  did  not  dare  to  show 
themselves. 

Only  a  few  days  later,  upon  turning  into  a  side 
street  of  Vigan,  I  ran  into  both  Chrisolojo  and  Castro, 
together.  For  a  moment  they  seemed  in  doubt  as 
to  how  I  would  greet  them,  but  I  soon  set  them  at 
rest  on  that  point.  Poor  fellows,  their  clothes  were 
dirty  and  bespattered  with  mud,  and  Castro  especially 
looked  sallow  and  worn.  Tifio  had  told  them  to  re- 
turn to  their  families,  and  I  now  met  them  as  they 
arrived.  It  was  a  happy  moment  for  me;  I  could  now 
show  them  my  gratitude,  and,  needless  to  say,  I  did 
all  I  could  for  them.  They  were  not  only  allowed  to 
go  to  their  homes,  but  offered  employment  in  our 

375 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

hospital,  in  the  old  building  where  Chrisolojo  had 
formerly  been  master.  I  felt  almost  sad  on  mounting 
the  old  familiar  staircase  between  Chrisolojo  and  Cas- 
tro, when  I  took  them  up  there  to  present  them  to 
Captain  Van  Dusen,  our  officer  in  charge,  who  re- 
ceived them  in  the  old  office  where  Chrisolojo  once  had 
sat  with  me  studying  English. 

The  American  officer  was  very  kind  to  both  of  my 
friends,  and,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  offered  them 
employment.  This  they  declined,  but  Castro  volun- 
teered his  services  in  order  to  attend  to  several  of  the 
wounded  Filipinos  found  in  the  streets  after  the  fight 
on  the  4th.  To  this  day  these  two  native  gentlemen 
reside  in  Vigan,  but  have  declined  to  enter  our  service 
officially,  and  for  this  I  cannot  help  but  respect  them. 
A  cousin  of  Chrisolojo  is  now  health  officer  to  the  port 
of  Vigan,  but  then — he  is  an  "  Americanista." 

On  December  i8th  a  rumor  reached  us  through  two 
Chinese  who  had  been  prisoners  with  Tiiio,  that  Colo- 
nel Hare  had  overtaken  the  American  prisoners  in  the 
mountains,  and  was  on  the  way  with  them  to  Aparri 
in  the  Province  of  Cagayan. 

The  same  day  I  left  the  Government  service,  and 
made  preparations  to  ascend  the  Abra  to  Bangued. 


^ 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

CONCLUSION 

Trip  to  Bangued,  and  meeting  with  old  friends — Abasilla  in  hid- 
ing— A  letter  to  Alejandrino — Revisiting  old  scenes  and  ac- 
quaintances— Malolos  again — The  rescued  prisoners  arrive — 
Their  story — Wherein  our  characters  make  their  bow  and 
retire — A  few  words  on  the  present  situation. 

ON  December  20th,  in  company  with  Seiior 
Pedro  Chrisolojo,  a  merchant  of  Bangued 
and  a  cousin  to  the  doctor,  I  ascended  the 
Abra  River  on  a  raft,  as  I  had  done  previously  on  Sep- 
tember 5th  the  same  year.  We  started  early  in  the 
morning  and  arrived  late  in  the  evening,  the  current 
now  not  being  half  so  swift  as  during  the  rainy  season. 
A  servant  had  been  sent  up  the  day  before  to  prepare 
my  friends'  family  for  our  arrival  and  have  a  quilez 
ready  to  meet  us  on  the  river-bank.  I  had  been  in 
Sefior  Chrisolojo's  house  but  ten  minutes  when  two 
of  the  Paredes  brothers,  Isidro  and  Mariano,  burst  in 
and  greeted  me  with  a  warmth  truly  grateful.  How 
much  we  had  to  talk  about!  They  knew  that  I  was 
not  drowned,  and  so  did  Abasilla;  nevertheless  the 
provincial  president  had  not  been  informed  of  my  dis- 
appearance until  three  days  had  passed.  Captain 
Hiado  had  been  kept  under  strict  cross-examination 
for  several  hours,  but  they  had  learned  nothing  from 
him.    Parties  of  police  had  been  sent  up  as  far  as  Do- 

377 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

lores  to  look  for  me,  and  my  escape  telegraphed  to  all 
the  coast  towns.  At  last  they  heard  that  I  was  once 
more  in  the  hands  of  the  military  authorities  in  Vigan, 
but  as  I  had  so  suddenly  disappeared,  and  the  Span- 
iards from  the  hospital  had  reported  that  a  squad  of 
soldiers  had  come  for  me  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
and,  after  tying  my  arms  behind  me,  led  me  off  into 
the  rice-fields,  it  was  naturally  supposed  that  I  had 
been  made  away  with,  according  to  Spanish  custom. 
But  the  Filipinos  as  yet  have  not  adopted  Spanish 
methods. 

A  company  of  the  Thirty-third  garrisoned  Bangued 
at  this  time.  Captain  Shields,  who  was  in  command, 
had  cautioned  me  against  leaving  the  town  alone,  as 
bands  of  Insurgents  infested  the  mountains.  It  had 
been  my  intention  to  travel  on  to  Lepanto  by  horse, 
and  descend  to  the  coast  by  the  pass  of  Tagudin,  but, 
considering  the  danger  too  great,  I  abandoned  this 
plan. 

The  day  after  my  arrival,  while  I  was  sitting  convers- 
ing with  the  Paredes  in  their  home,  a  young  man 
entered,  whom  I  recognized  as  Abasilla's  former  clerk. 
After  greeting  me,  he  turned  to  Don  Isidro  and  spoke 
a  few  words  to  him  in  Ilocano,  which  I  did  not  under- 
stand. Isidro  nodded  his  head,  and,  then,  turning  to 
me,  the  clerk  said:  "  Abasilla  has  heard  of  your  arrival. 
He  is  now  hiding  outside  in  the  jungle,  and  dares  not 
enter  the  town  for  fear  of  arrest.  He  desires  very 
much  to  see  you." 

Accompanied  by  this  clerk  and  Quintin,  the  young- 
est of  the  four  Paredes  brothers,  we  rode  far  out  into 
the  neighboring  hills,  by  a  winding  and  well-hidden 
trail.    Had  I  not  had  the  most  perfect  trust  in  my  two 

378 


Conclusion 

native  companions  I  might  have  expected  treachery, 
but  that  never  for  a  moment  entered  my  mind,  al- 
though I  knew  their  sympathy  lay  not  with  my  people. 
Suddenly  our  horses  galloped  into  a  small  clearing  and 
brought  up  before  a  bamboo  hut.  There  was  a  shout 
from  the  inside,  and  Abasilla  bounded  out  and  almost 
dragged  me  off  my  horse  by  main  force.  His  wife  was 
with  him,  although  she  could  well  have  remained  in 
Bangued,  but  she  chose  to  share  her  husband's  hard- 
ship. For  several  minutes  the  little  doctor  and  I  did 
nothing  but  slap  each  other's  backs  and  laugh.  We 
certainly  were  pleased  to  meet  each  other.  But  soon 
he  explained  his  troubles.  Tifio  had  given  all  married 
men  leave  to  return  to  their  families,  and  Abasilla  had 
taken  advantage  of  this  proclamation,  but  in  Bangued 
were  those  who  would  not  hesitate  to  denounce  him 
as  a  spy  to  repay  old  grudges,  for  only  fools  have  no 
enemies,  and  Abasilla  was  no  fool.  He  wished,  then, 
to  ask  my  advice  as  a  friend  and  an  American,  what 
course  would  be  the  proper  one  to  pursue.  I  soon 
settled  that  question  for  him.  Abasilla  returned  with 
us  to  Bangued,  and  that  very  evening  I  presented  him 
to  the  garrison  ofificers  as  my  friend  and  former  bene- 
factor. He  was  not  only  permitted  to  return  to  his  old 
home,  but  to  open  up  a  small  apothecary's  shop  with 
the  old  hospital  drugs  he  still  possessed.  His  grati- 
tude to  me  knew  no  bounds,  simply  considerably  over- 
estimating the  service  I  had  rendered  him. 

I  may  here  mention  that  I  wrote  a  letter  to  Ale- 
jandrino,  in  which  I  thanked  him  for  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  treated  me  in  Vigan.  I  gave  this  to  a 
certain  party  who  promised  to  deliver  it,  and  a  month 
later  I  met  this  man  again,  whose  name  I  feel  not  to 

379 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

have  the  right  to  disclose,  and  he  not  only  assured 
me  that  Alejandrino  had  received  the  letter,  but  gave 
me  a  verbal  message  of  thanks  from  the  young  colonel. 
He  would  have  written  in  reply,  but  sufficient  reasons 
forbade  it.  I  have  good  cause  to  believe  the  bearer  of 
this  message.  He  furthermore  told  me  that  Ale- 
jandrino had  witnessed  the  entrance  of  the  Oregon's 
marines  into  Vigan  from  the  window  of  a  private  house, 
disguised  as  a  civilian,  and  an  hour  later  followed  his 
men  up  to  Bangued.  It  was  he  who  had  led  the  attack 
on  Vigan  on  the  4th,  while  Tifio  and  Villamor  fought 
against  Young  at  Tangadan.  On  this  occasion  he  had 
had  barely  two  hundred  men,  instead  of  five  hundred, 
as  reported,  all  their  ammunition  consisting  of  five 
rounds,  and  poor  at  that. 

The  scarcity  and  poor  quality  of  the  refilled  ammuni- 
tion is,  combined  with  their  inferior  marksmanship, 
undoubtedly  the  cause  of  the  poor  showing  the  Insur- 
gents always  make  before  our  men.  That  they  are 
cowards  or  even  less  courageous  than  the  Americans 
is  proven  untrue  by  the  fact  that  they  sometimes  stand 
until  half  their  number  are  down  and  all  their  ammu- 
nition gone,  knowing  that  the  odds  are  against  them. 
I  am  told  that  often  the  powder  in  their  cartridges  is 
so  weak  as  to  throw  the  bullet  no  farther  than  a  few 
yards  beyond  the  muzzles  of  their  guns.  Who,  then, 
can  fail  to  admire  their  courage  in  fighting  against 
such  odds? 

On  December  23d  I  bid  my  old  Bangued  friends 
farewell  and  descended  to  Vigan  again  by  raft,  as  I  had 
come.  Together  with  Ramon  Rey  I  travelled  down 
by  the  coast  road  to  Dagupan,  meeting  many  old 
friends  again. 

380 


Conclusion 

Old  Pedro  Legaspi,  presidente  of  Candon,  still  held 
the  same  position  as  before,  respected  and  venerated 
by  Americans  and  natives  alike. 

Once  more  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Colonel 
Santa  Romana,  of  Namacpacan,  or  presidente  rather, 
for  he  was  now  municipal  chief  instead  of  Rosario.  I 
have  already  mentioned  the  incident  that  took  place 
on  this  occasion,  and  now  I  once  more  assure  the  reader 
of  its  truth. 

But  what  a  greeting  did  our  old  friend  Don  Juan 
Baltazar  of  Aringay  extend  to  us !  Nothing  would  do 
but  we  must  remain  as  his  guests  for  a  week,  though 
we  finally  compromised  on  two  days. 

Wherever  we  went,  Ramon  Rey  and  I  enjoyed  the 
spontaneous  hospitality  of  the  natives,  and  never  could 
we  persuade  them  to  accept  pay.  Such  is  the  custom 
of  the  country. 

Shortly  after  New  Year's  Day  I  arrived  at  Manila, 
having  travelled  by  rail  from  Dagupan.  Ramon  Rey 
had  left  me  at  San  Fernando  de  Pampanga,  in  order 
to  return  to  his  home  in  San  Isidro,  where  he  now  con- 
ducts a  small  store. 

As  the  train  stopped  at  Malolos,  strange  emotions 
were  awakened  within  me.  Again  I  saw  that  living 
stream  of  humanity  surging,  panic-stricken,  across  the 
track;  the  frightened  guards  urging  us  on  with  blows 
and  curses,  and  the  rolling  smoke  of  burning  houses 
on  the  horizon.  A  little  hut  near  the  railroad  crossing 
I  remember  as  a  familiar  landmark,  and  as  I  see  it 
now  I  fancy  that  I  again  pass  it,  ragged,  hungry,  and 
a  prisoner,  and  almost  hear  the  cries  of  the  refugees! 

But  what  is  this?  Looking  closer  as  the  train  be- 
gins to  pull  out  from  the  station  and  this  hut  comes 

381 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

into  plainer  view,  I  see  over  the  door  a  large  placard, 
under  which  a  number  of  big,  lazy,  blue-shirted  soldiers 
are  lounging  listlessly.  In  black,  conspicuous  letters  I 
now  read: 

FRISCO  RESTAURANT. 

Come  here  for  your  cool  steam  beer,  only  twenty  cents 

a  glass. 

Frankfurters,  hot  or  cold,  only 

I  could  see  no  more.  What  the  price  of  the  frank- 
furters was  I  never  learned.  My  vision  had  burst  like 
a  bubble  pierced  with  a  needle. 

For  nearly  a  month  I  remained  in  Manila,  living 
with  Sefior  Ignacio  Villamor,  who  had  come  down  by 
steamer.  Don  Ignacio  was  by  profession  a  teacher  in 
the  old  Manila  University,  and  now  he  told  me  of  his 
plan,  together  with  others  to  found  a  college  such  as 
Manila  had  never  before  seen.  The  result  is  the 
"  Liceo  de  Manila,"  an  institution  of  which  even  an 
American  city  might  be  proud. 

Somewhere  about  January  loth  the  rescued  pris- 
oners arrived  at  Manila  from  Aparri,  numbering  twen- 
ty-five, and  all  apparently  in  fairly  good  condition,  I 
saw  all  but  Lieutenant  Gillmore  (who  separated  from 
the  party  upon  arriving  at  Cavite),  and  now  learned  all 
the  particulars  of  the  rescue. 

A  few  days  after  my  flight  from  Bangued  the  num- 
ber of  American  prisoners  had  been  increased  by  thir- 
teen others.  On  December  5th  Tiiio  arrived  and  they 
were  marched  ofi  into  the  mountains.  Two  days  later, 
from  a  village  called  Dunlass,  Bruce,  Edwards,  and 
O'Brien  made  a  desperate  break  for  liberty  and  es- 

382 


Conclusion 

caped,  reaching  Bangued  safely,  where  they  met  Colo- 
nel Hare  and  his  men.  Instead  of  continuing  their 
course  to  Vigan,  the  trio  volunteered  their  services  as 
guides,  and  led  the  soldiers  on  to  Dunlass,  where  they 
arrived  shortly  after  the  departure  of  the  Insurgents 
with  their  prisoners.  From  there  on  they  followed  the 
trail  by  means  of  various  clews — a  remnant  of  a  pair 
of  old  pantaloons,  a  scrap  of  paper,  marks  on  trees, 
rocks,  huts,  etc.  Several  times  they  met  the  en- 
emy, and  fought  them.  Over  steep  mountains  and 
through  wild  gorges  the  little  party  pushed  on  far  into 
Cagayan. 

On  the  morning  of  the  17th  they  arrived  at  the  top 
of  a  small  knoll,  and,  seeing  the  figures  of  men  ahead, 
all  lay  down  and  watched.  Before  them,  on  the  bank 
of  a  river,  were  the  prisoners  and  a  number  of  Tin- 
guianes,  all  engaged  in  building  rafts,  but  not  one 
armed  Insurgent  could  be  seen.  With  a  yell  the  sol- 
diers rushed  down  on  to  the  party.  The  Tinguianes 
vanished  like  smoke,  and  a  moment  later  the  rescued 
prisoners  were  joining  their  rescuers  in  loud  cheers. 

It  seems  that,  finding  the  prisoners  cumbersome,  the 
Insurgents  had  decided  to  abandon  them,  as  they  had 
done  already  with  the  Spaniards  while  crossing  the 
Loag  valley.  Telling  them  that  the  Americans  were 
close  at  hand,  and  that  by  remaining  where  they  were 
they  would  be  rescued  within  forty-eight  hours,  the 
Insurgent  officer  bid  his  prisoners  "  adios,"  and,  to- 
gether with  his  men,  disappeared.  The  Tinguianes 
now  came  down,  but  proved  friendly,  and  even  assisted 
them  in  building  rafts  on  which  to  travel  down  the 
river  to  the  sea-coast. 

The  day  after  the  meeting  between  the  ex-prison- 
383 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ers  and  Colonel  Hare's  men,  more  rafts  were  built,  and 
the  entire  party  embarked,  floating  down  the  river  until 
Aparri  was  reached  on  January  3d.  Thence  they  em- 
barked on  the  United  States  gun-boat  Princeton,  and 
came  down  to  Manila. 

This  is  the  story  as  related  to  me  by  Bruce,  Edwards, 
O'Brien,  and  their  companions,  and  coincides  exactly 
with  what  I  have  been  told  by  soldiers  and  officers  who 
took  part  in  the  rescue. 

Lieutenant  Gillmore  and  his  men  were  distributed 
among  the  vessels  then  at  Manila.  Several  went  home 
to  the  States  a  few  weeks  later  on  the  Solace,  but 
the  majority  are  still  on  duty  out  on  the  Asiatic 
Station. 

O'Brien  was  given  a  minor  position  in  the  Quarter- 
master's Department  in  Manila,  but  has  since  gone 
prospecting  into  the  mountains  of  Cagayan. 

Bruce  returned  to  Vigan  to  establish  a  store. 

Huber,  Honeyman,  and  Bishop,  discharged  from 
the  army,  have  since  gone  to  their  different  homes  in 
the  States. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Captain  Hiado,  Lieu- 
tenant Bustos,  and  other  companions  of  the  Bangued 
hospital  in  Manila.  The  old  captain  almost  wept  as 
he  told  me  that,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  notes, 
he  had  lost  all  my  manuscript  while  fording  a  river. 
Every  day  I  had  invitations  to  dinner  in  the  Spanish 
quarters  from  all  these  old  friends,  until  in  the  middle 
of  January  they  embarked  for  their  native  land  on  the 
Spanish  transport  Leon  XIII. 

Captain  Espina  and  Comandante  Pefia  I  also  met 
later  on,  in  Manila,  taken  prisoners  by  our  forces,  but 
later  released.    The  former  is  now,  I  believe,  a  mem- 

384 


Conclusion 

ber  of  the  native  police  force  of  Manila,  the  latter  a 
civilian. 

Toward  the  latter  end  of  January  I  returned  to 
Vigan,  in  order  to  gather  information  on  certain  points 
regarding  my  manuscript,  which  I  now  commenced  to 
rewrite,  from  memory  and  the  notes  saved  by  Hiado. 
I  remained  here  for  several  months,  enjoying  the  so- 
ciety of  Castro,  Chrisolojo,  and  other  old  friends  of 
the  days  when  the  skies  were  cloudy. 

Acosta  still  continues  to  be  Civil  Governor,  but  in 
name  only,  for  an  American  officer  soon  stepped  into 
that  position. 

Lucas  Paredes  fills  a  similar  office  in  Abra,  while 
Isidro  has  gone  to  Manila  to  study  English  and  prac- 
tise law. 

Bartoleme  still  rules  the  Vigan  prison  as  of  old,  and 
whenever  we  meet,  he  rubs  his  hands  and  smiles. 

Apparently  all  is  peace  and  contentment. 

But  up  in  the  neighboring  hills,  Tifio,  Alejandrino, 
Reyes,  and  their  faithful  followers  are  still  roaming 
about  fighting  for  the  liberty  they  will  never  gain. 
Whenever  they  come  in  contact  with  our  forces,  a 
skirmish  ensues,  partaking  more  of  the  nature  of  a 
rabbit  drive,  and  about  as  glorious  to  our  side.  The 
heaps  of  dead  and  dying  natives  are  then  photographed 
by  our  people,  and  exhibited  with  such  mottoes: 

"  Can  the  — d  Regiment  boys  shoot? 
You  bet  they  can 
Count  the  dead  niggers." 

This  is  meant  to  be  humor,  but  perhaps  my  sense 
of  humor  is  defective,  for  the  effect  these  pictures  pro- 
duce on  me  is  far  from  funny. 

385 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

The  Government  is  (1900)  strictly  military.  The 
municipal  presidents  are  mere  puppets,  neither  more 
nor  less  than  tools  in  the  hands  of  our  officers.  The 
natives  tell  me  that  the  taxes  are  now  double  what  they 
formerly  were,  yet  a  native  clerk  in  the  Government 
employ  receives  at  the  most  ten  American  dollars 
monthly  salary.  I  have  myself  seen  the  rates  of  licenses. 
A  grocery  store  is  taxed  fifty  pesos  monthly,  a  gam- 
bling-house fifty  cents  (twenty-five  cents  American). 
Rents  are  raised  to  treble  their  former  standard  by  our 
officers,  who  do  not  hesitate  to  pay  eighty  pesos  ($40 
gold)  for  a  house  for  which  a  native  could  only  afford  to 
pay  thirty.  Consequently  that  class  which  formerly 
rented  comfortable  wooden  habitations  now  dwell  in 
bamboo  huts.  Many  of  my  native  friends  have  been 
candid  enough  with  me  to  express  their  honest  opin- 
ions, and  have  not  hesitated  to  declare  that  they  are 
much  disappointed.  As  one  said  to  me:  "  Our  lan- 
guage and  customs  are  different  from  yours,  and  the 
American  officers  do  not  and  never  will  understand  us. 
They  say  that  we  cannot  rule  ourselves,  but  we  were 
better  satisfied  during  the  year  of  self-government  we 
had,  than  now.  Even  if  the  Tagalogs  are  in  the  ascend- 
ancy, they  are  at  least  of  our  own  race  and  understand 
us  better  than  your  senators  in  Washington.  How  can 
we  be  well  governed  by  men  who  have  never  even  seen 
a  Filipino?  " 

In  the  middle  of  April  I  departed  for  my  native  land, 
after  an  absence  of  almost  two  years.  Bruce  was  to 
have  accompanied  me,  but  not  feeling  well  enough 
determined  to  postpone  his  leaving  until  the  next 
steamer.  Poor  fellow,  when  the  next  steamer  sailed  he 
was  laid  under  the  soil  of  the  country  where  he  had 

386 


Conclusion 

sufifered  so  much.  Chrisolojo  had  diagnosed  his  case 
correctly. 

I  have  now  no  other  relic  of  my  experience  than 
Alejandrino's  undress  uniform  coat,  which  I  shall 
keep  as  a  memento  of  one  of  the  enemy  who  treated 
me  as  a  friend. 

As  the  transport  turned  her  bow  north  and  ploughed 
through  the  waters  of  the  China  Sea,  I  leaned  over 
the  taffrail  and  watched  the  rugged  hills  of  Luzon 
sinking  down  on  the  horizon.  A  strange  sense  of  lone- 
liness crept  over  me,  for  I  had  just  parted,  perhaps  for- 
ever, from  those  whose  friendship  had  been  extended 
to  me  under  circumstances  that  proved  its  quality, 
where  the  veneer  is  thrown  off  and  the  man  stands 
forth  in  his  true  light. 

I  had  experienced  much  hardship,  even  much  suf- 
fering in  that  land,  but  when  I  compare  my  experience 
with  that  of  others  in  similar  situations  during  our  own 
Civil  War,  say  Andersonville  of  the  South  or  Rock 
Island  of  the  North,  held  by  their  own  race  and  nation- 
ality, then  my  resentment  vanishes,  and  I  am  willing  to 
forgive,  yes,  even  a  Francisco  Donato.  Had  we  been 
prisoners  of  the  Spanish,  or  of  the  French,  would  we 
have  fared  better?    No,  I  think  not,  nor  even  as  well! 

Some  of  the  hardships  endured  might  many  a  time 
have  been  greatly  ameliorated,  had  the  men  been  made 
to  feel  in  the  only  officer  among  them  more  of  the 
moral  influence  of  a  leading  mind  and  of  a  spirit  better 
befitting  the  situation  in  general,  and  if  less  efforts  had 
been  made  in  obtaining  those  personal  "  rights  "  and 
individual  "  privileges,"  the  claims  to  which  not  only 
had  the  tendency  to  embitter  them  against  him,  but 
even  frequently  caused  the  most  disrespectful  bicker- 

387 


A  Captive  Among  Filipinos 

ings  and  undisguised  ill-feelings,  undisguised  at  times 
even  among  those  who  for  reasons  of  their  own  felt 
that  loyalty  and  silence  might  some  day  be  gold. 

Considering  the  circumstances,  the  poverty  of  those 
who  held  us,  themselves  sometimes  starving,  we  ought 
not  to  complain.  Those  who  really  have  come  in  suffi- 
ciently close  contact  with  the  Filipinos  to  know  them, 
and  are  enabled  to  judge  them  without  racial  or  na- 
tional prejudice,  cannot  but  admit  that  they  are  as  en- 
titled to  be  called  civilized  as  other  nations,  and  even 
more  so  than  some  whose  representatives  we  receive 
at  our  capital  and  accord  the  same  honors  as  those  of 
the  most  polished  nations.  Considering  the  chances 
they  have  had,  or  rather  not  had,  and  who  their  teach- 
ers were,  the  Filipinos  have  certainly  behaved  as  well, 
if  not  better,  toward  their  prisoners,  than  other  nations 
have  done  in  recent  wars. 


388 


A   BOOK  FOR   BUSINESS  MEN 

Commercial  Cuba 

By  WILLIAM  J.    CLJRK 

With  maps,  plans,  and  illustrations,  and  a  Commercial  Direct- 
ory of  the  Island.     Large   8vo,  |!4.oo. 

From  the  N.  Y.   EVENING   POST 

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growing ;  and  his  detailed  description  of  each  province  and 
of  every  city  of  any  size,  together  with  a  *  business  directory  ' 
for  the  whole  island,  make  his  book  one  of  great  value  for 
reference  as  well  as  for  practical  guidance.  ...  Its 
accuracy  is  certainly  of  a  high  order." 

From  the  REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS 

"  This  generously  printed  volume,  by  Mr.  Clark,  is  im- 
doubtedly  the  most  valuable  book  about  practical  conditions 
in  Cuba  from  the  point  of  view  of  commerce,  agriculture  and 
material  resources,  that  has  yet  made  its  appearance.  For 
the  business  man,  the  statesman,  or  the  intelligent  tourist 
about  to  visit  Cuba,  this  book  is  to  be  recommended  in  the 
highest  terms." 

From  the  N.  Y.  SUN 

"What  we  have  here  is  a  vast  amount  of  valuable  data 
covering  almost  the  entire  field  of  inquiry  regarding  Cuba 
and  her  resources.  .  .  .  It  is  a  great  service  which  the 
author  of  this  book  has  rendered  to  his  fellow  citizens. 
.  .  .  He  has  certainly  been  painstaking  in  his  personal 
observations,  and  he  is  cautious  and  judicious  in  his  estimates 
and  forecasts  based  upon  the  experience  of  others." 


The  Middle  Kingdom 

By  S.  WELLS  WILLIAMS^  D.D.,  LL.D. 

A  Survey  of  the  Geography,  Government,  Literature,  Social 
Life,  Arts  and  History  of  the  Chinese  Empire  and  its 
Inhabitants.  With  illustrations  and  a  new  map  of  the 
empire,  2  vols.     Royal  8vo,  $9.00. 

**  The  result  is  an  encyclopaedia  of  China  the  value  of 
which  cannot  be  overestimated.  .  .  .  An  exceedingly 
complete  and  accurate  account  of  the  most  interesting  coun- 
try in  the  world." — London  Saturday  Review. 

"  The  revised  edition  of  the  *  Middle  Kingdom,*  is  the 
most  ambitious  and  the  best-executed  work,  typographically 
speaking,  that  has  issued  for  a  long  time  from  American 
presses.  From  a  literary  standpoint  it  must  be  regarded  as 
the  best  general  work  on  China  extant. '  * — New  York  Tribune. 


The  Porto  Rico  of  To-day 

By  ALBERT  G.  ROBINSON 

Pen  Pictures  of  the  People  and  the  Country.     With  maps 
and  24  illustrations.    i2mo,  $1.50. 

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praise  from  those  who  know  the  island  well,  as  being  an 
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is  one  of  the  most  interesting  calleii  forth  by  the  war.  .  .  . 
Illustrations  are  numerous  and  tell  a  complete  story  by 
themselves  of  the  country  and  the  habits  and  life  of  the 
people. ' '  — Boston  Transcript. 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,'''%S^'Afr 


St 


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Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


1  Om-5,'6.")  ( F44oS8l )  476D 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA      000142168    4 


